


the hunter’s daughter

by dandelionlighters



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Teen Wolf AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23836609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionlighters/pseuds/dandelionlighters
Summary: “Don’t worry,” Josie said, but Hope thought that she looked nervous, too. “My dad won’t kill you. Not right away, at least.”Before Hope could respond, the door swung open, revealing a tall man with a grey beard and light eyes. Hope felt her heart drop to her stomach at the sight of him, instantly recognizing the man who had been hunting her the night before.“Hi, you must be Hope? I’m Alaric Saltzman.”Or,The Teen Wolf AU.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 258
Kudos: 875





	1. Chapter 1

The sound of classical music drifted into the large bedroom, briefly relaxing the harsh set of her shoulders before the auburn-haired girl reached out and pulled herself up to the steel bar once more. 

_ Twenty-seven... _

_ Twenty-eight... _

_ Twenty-nine... _

Sweat dripped down her neck in long trails, and she lost her count for the seventh time in a single minute. She had only _just_ started exercising and she was already exhausted. 

With a heavy sigh, she dropped to her feet and wiped at her face, grabbing the water bottle on her desk. She took a small sip before jumping back up to the pull-up bar again. 

_ Twenty-nine... _

With a crash, her door exploded open and she fell to the floor with a yelp. The girl was home alone—meaning she was either getting robbed or killed right now. She accepted her fate and closed her eyes, but nothing happened for several long seconds. 

She slowly looked up at her attacker, finding a small boy in Green Lantern pajamas smiling down at her. 

“MG,” she grumbled, standing up with the help of his hand. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

“Sorry, Hope.” He grinned, sitting down on her bed with a radio in his hand. He looked around her room despite the fact that he had been in it a million times before, and his smile grew. 

“How the fuck are you working out to Beethoven?” he asked, and Hope Mikaelson rolled her eyes. 

“Mozart,” she corrected, rubbing at the sweat on her face with her shirt. “Why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?” 

“I did.” He pouted, fiddling with the device in his hand nervously. Hope’s eyes lingered on it as he talked. “You didn’t answer. Where’s your aunt, by the way?” 

“Freya picked up an extra shift at the hospital,” she explained, throwing a zip-up hoodie on over her tank top. “Why are you here?” 

She didn’t mean to sound annoyed, but it was late and she had tryouts for lacrosse the next day. She needed to make the team this year, like her father had when he was her age. 

MG looked at her very carefully before standing up and holding out the radio in his hand. “Look, I know it’s late, but something’s wrong. My mom left in a hurry a couple of minutes ago. She wouldn’t tell me why so I stole her police scanner...and guess what I heard?” 

Hope wrinkled her nose, unimpressed. “ _What_?” 

MG paused for dramatic effect. “They found a dead body.” 

Hope blinked. 

Not getting any reaction out of his friend, he continued. “Two joggers in the woods discovered the body, supposedly. The whole Mystic Falls police force is on it, including the State Department.” 

“Wow, that’s _so_ cool,” Hope deadpanned, flopping onto her desk chair. 

“No, it’s not,” MG said quietly, and the girl across from him perked up. She had never seen the boy so unenthusiastic about a crime case. “They’re saying it could be one of us.” 

Hope instantly felt dread pool in her stomach. 

“The description fits a girl in her teens.” 

“A girl in her teens? They haven’t identified her?” Hope had a feeling she didn’t want to know who it was. 

“That’s the thing.” MG shook his head. “They only found half of her body.” 

—

“Are we really doing this?” Hope whispered, almost tripping on a branch. She couldn’t believe that they were _seriously_ playing around in the woods, trying to find a dead body. 

“Do you have anything better to do?” MG shined his flashlight in her eyes to get his point across, nearly blinding her. Hope swatted him away with an annoyed frown. 

“I wanted to get some sleep before the first day of school,” she said lamely, looking around. The forest was awfully quiet for how many people MG claimed to be inside of it. She kicked a pebble, then added, “And tryouts.” 

“You’re going to make the team for sure,” he told her, slowing down so she could catch up. The boy tended to walk fast when he got excited. “You’ve been practicing the whole summer.” 

“I should’ve started a long time ago,” she murmured, her mind far away from the forest. He stopped her before she could zone out too much. 

“That’s not fair.” MG paused in front of her, so abruptly that she almost bumped into him. “You’ve been through a lot.” 

She chose not to respond, and they continued to walk around aimlessly until the pair came in front of a dilapidated house. 

“Isn’t that...?” MG trailed off. Hope felt a burst of emotion at the scene in front of her—a large, two-story house that was black from soot and ash. Once, a long time ago, it was her home. 

“I...I think so,” she said, her voice suspiciously rough. 

“Oh.” The boy sounded like all the air in his body had been suffocated out of him, and Hope just nodded blankly. She turned away and made a weak sound at the back of her own throat, feeling much heavier than she had coming into the forest. 

It had been so long since she had been here that she no longer remembered the path to get to the house, and she had been none the wiser when they had stumbled upon the building in ruins. Hope had even been surprised. 

She used to know the woods like home, but without her family, she had come to realize that they were just _woods_. The moment her family had burnt to death in that house, the forest and everything inside of it had lost all meaning to her. 

Hope and MG continued to walk until the boy suddenly halted as they were climbing up a small hill. He fell to the ground and Hope scrunched up her face in confusion as he shushed her and turned off his flashlight. 

She only nodded and crouched next to him, her eyes catching sight of a dozen or so police officers in front of her, their own flashlights pointed in different directions. 

“Shit...” 

The two looked at each other. “Are they...?” 

They both got up and started running as they realized that many of the adults were coming towards them. Hope ducked behind a tree just as MG got caught. 

“Easy, Biscuit,” a woman Hope knew to be Veronica Greasley whispered, trying to calm down the barking dog at her side. Hope tried not to laugh as she imagined the canine lunging at her friend. 

“Hey, Mom,” MG greeted cheerfully, if a bit nervously, and Hope clenched her eyes shut as she heard them start to drift near her. She tried to make herself as narrow as possible—the tree was only so big, though. 

“Milton Greasley!” his mother scolded. Hope grimaced, knowing the boy would be in a world of trouble when he got home. “I told you to stop listening to my calls!” 

He made some excuse that Hope couldn’t hear passed her heart pounding in her ears and the leaves crunching beneath her feet. She could hear his mom perfectly fine, though. The woman was much louder than her timid, eager son. “Where’s your friend?” 

The auburn-haired girl swallowed. 

“Hope?” 

_ Gee, thanks, MG.  _

“She’s not with me.” 

Hope turned her head to look just as a flashlight glared in her eyes, and she swiftly jumped back behind the cover of the tree. 

“Hope? Are you there?” Mrs. Greasley called out three times before giving up. “Fine. I’ll believe you just this once, Milton. But I’m walking you back to your car...”

The mother and son pair started to walk away, and as their voices grew quiet, Hope stepped out of her hiding spot. 

_ Damn it. There goes my ride. _

Now Hope would have to walk back home herself, if she could even remember the way. It hadn’t been a particularly long drive, however, so she figured she would live the night, at least.

Her breath fogged in front of her as she walked, stumbling around for anything that looked familiar. At last, saw a couple of trees that she recognized, and headed in that direction, hugging herself in the cold. Her thin jacket had not been a good choice, she realized. 

Just as she put her hands in her pocket, the girl heard a weird sound above her head. She looked up, expecting to get hit with a fallen branch, but nothing of that sort happened. 

Instead, within seconds, several actual— _actual_ —deer started jumping through the space around her, and when she fell over, they jumped over her. 

She yelped as her torso hit the ground first, throwing her hands in front of her face at an awful attempt to shield it from the sprinting animals. After about thirty seconds of extreme panicking where she contemplated screaming for help, the deer disappeared in the opposite direction of where they first came. 

The forest fell back into silence, and she looked around, wondering what the hell just happened. Why had the deer been so scared? And what were they running from? 

As she stood up panting, Hope rubbed at her pants to wipe the dirt off. Once she was satisfied, she took a step forward and immediately tripped over a rock.

She rolled over, her vision bleary. Since MG and her had gotten caught, the sky had only gotten darker and now she could barely see five feet in front of her. She slipped out her phone from her back pocket and decided to use the screen as a flashlight.

Almost immediately, the light beamed across the space in front of her. In the next instant, Hope Mikaelson screamed soundlessly at what was revealed to her by the light—

Next to where she had previously fallen lay the dead body they had been looking for, completely naked and amputated at the waist. Hope’s heart plummeted to her feet at the person she recognized: Dana Lilien, a girl who played soccer at Mystic Falls High School. 

Hope lurched back in shock, her jaw trembling as she fought the urge to throw up all over the ground. She looked away, the sudden spell of dizziness too much to handle and she promptly emptied out the contents of her stomach right next to Dana’s dead body. 

Sure, she had never liked the girl, but she could at least be respectful. 

Hope wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, freezing as she heard some type of growling behind her. She slowly twisted her body around, and her blood thickened to ice as she saw a nearly indistinguishable, black animal with red eyes in the distance. 

It was certainly not one she recognized, but if she had to guess, she would say that it was some kind of ugly gorilla mixed with the body of a wolf. Hope backed up slowly, but the animal was too fast and in one, single leap, it closed the distance. 

She was thrown onto her back so swiftly that she couldn’t even register the hit, and she couldn’t register the pain either when the disgusting beast _swiped_ or _bit_ or _whatever_ that filthy thing had done to her stomach. 

She kicked with all her might and started running away when the animal oddly gave her the chance to. Of course, Hope Mikaelson was not one to turn her back on mercy, and ironically enough, she instantly took off, her feet carrying her despite having no idea where she was going. 

She tripped and fell the entire time, her summer of eye-hand coordination practice and endurance running no help whatsoever as she found she could not catch her breath or walk a single step without crashing to the ground. 

She saw a break in the treeline and ran faster in that direction, sprinting out into the road just as a car sped in front of her. Much like she had earlier, Hope froze and attempted to shield herself from the incoming hit, but to yet another surprise, the car swerved and passed her. 

She watched it forlornly, her adrenaline fading as the pain in her stomach hit her all at once. She groaned and lifted up her shirt to look at the offending wound, finding a large set of teeth imprinted into her skin. 

The moon in the sky glowed as if to mock her, and the sound of howling a second later did not make her feel _any_ better. 

How was she going to explain this to Freya? 

—

Hope turned into her parking spot, immediately seeing MG already waiting for her by the bike rack. He had a car of his own, of course, but Hope discovered late last night that he had  gotten it taken away from him, resigning the boy to ride his bicycle to the very first day of school. 

MG’s mother had watched him leave to make sure Hope wouldn’t give him a ride to school, so the auburn-haired girl hadn’t been able to do that, either. 

“I can’t show you it now,” Hope hissed, rolling her eyes at his expectant gaze. 

Luckily, MG hadn’t gotten his _phone_ taken away, and the two had been up texting all night about the bite mark gnawed into her stomach. 

It was still bleeding despite the two boxes of bandages she had used to cover it up from her aunt’s supply, but the pain wasn’t as bad as it had been hours ago. 

“Why not?” MG whined, and Hope raised her eyebrows at him. 

“Because we’re in the parking lot and you’ll look like a pervert?” she told him, forming it like a question just as he did, and he finally relented. 

“So it was a deer that bit you?” MG asked, climbing up the steps to the main entrance of the school. 

“I don’t know...” She shrugged her shoulders. “I think it was a wolf. I’m pretty sure I heard howling.” 

“No, you didn’t.” 

“Yes, I did,” Hope sighed, giving him a weird look. 

“No, I mean, you’re _didn_ ’ _t_ ,” MG reiterated, laughing slightly. “Virginia doesn’t have wolves—and certainly not Mystic Falls.” 

Hope frowned. “Then what the hell bit me?” 

“No clue.” MG smiled then as his eyes shifted to somewhere else. His irises took on a glazed over look as he practically swooned. “Do you think Lizzie will notice me this year?” 

Hope looked over at the blonde in question, who was making out with Sebastian against her locker. “ _No clue_.” 

MG punched her shoulder, and immediately moaned in pain. “Ow. Are you made of steel now or something? Maybe you _did_ work too hard over the—“ 

The bell rang, then, signaling students to go to first period, but the sound reached Hope’s ears so loudly that she urgently clamped her hands over them. The damage was already done, however, and she threw her head back in pain. 

Her eyes flashed for just a second, but no one saw it, and memories of the night before blinked within her pupil like a slideshow:

Deer. Dana dead. Red eyes. A black wolf. Deer. Dana dead—

“MG.” She grabbed him so hard that he nearly bumped into several other people. How could she have forgotten it before? “Dana is dead.” 

“What?” 

“Dana. Is. _Dead_.” 

—

Hope and MG sat together at lunch, one in deep thought and the other in shock. After five minutes of complete silence, MG whimpered, “Dana died?” 

Hope nodded for the fourth time that day, stunned that the boy still could not believe it. “I can’t prove it, but I saw what I saw.” 

“How—how are we going to tell them?” He gestured to the lunch room around them, bustling with gossip and chatter. The pair themselves sat alone, the two loners of the school. 

They both looked over at where Dana would normally sit with her soccer friends. Her seat was taken by another boy, and Hope wondered if her friends had even noticed their teammate was absent. It seemed that her and MG, two perfect strangers to the girl, were the only ones grieving. 

“MG.” She tilted her head and glanced at him curiously. She swallowed the bite of apple in her throat, and it fell down to her stomach like acid. “I don’t think they care to know.” 

“Well, uh, Lizzie looks really pretty today,” MG said after a moment, trying to change the subject. Hope glanced over as if to check. 

“Yeah, she does,” she agreed distantly, her eyes trained on her food in front of her. She suddenly felt her appetite completely disappear. 

“I heard that her twin sister is coming to town,” MG added, still staring at the object of his affection with gentle eyes. “Err, actually she already has, I think. She started her first day this morning.” 

Hope blinked. That was news. Since when did Elizabeth Saltzman have a twin sister? 

“Twin sister?” she asked. “Where did you hear that from? You only have one friend.” 

MG blushed. “Shut up.” 

They both laughed, before he explained. “Lizzie said they’re close, but that they’ve spent much of their childhood apart—Lizzie and her mom here, her twin and her father in France.” 

“Hmm. Are you hoping they look alike?” Hope wondered out loud. She then jibed, “Maybe you might actually have a chance with this one.” 

“Hey,” he pretended to be wounded, “I like Lizzie for more than just her looks.” As he finished talking, Hope stood up to throw her food away, grabbing his tray as well. 

“That’s funny, I can’t imagine her having a personality,” Hope called back to him, smirking slightly. When she turned around to face the trash can again, she bumped directly into another person. 

Hope saw the water bottle fall out of the person’s hand in slow motion, and she managed to catch it with her own left hand while juggling MG and her’s food trays in her right. When her eyes flitted back up to the person’s own, the world faded away to the chocolate brown irises and full lips across from her.

Hope thought that the girl she had just bumped into was very, very pretty. Her brown hair fell in small waves around her face, and she had a nice necklace adorning her neck. 

Somehow, Hope quickly realized that the girl’s hand had ended up on her bicep to balance herself, and she swayed forward before standing completely still. Despite the fact that she was no longer in trouble of falling over, the girl’s hand continued to grip Hope’s upper arm more tightly as the seconds passed. 

They stared at each other for what seemed like a full minute until the brunette furrowed her eyebrows and dropped her gaze to Hope’s arm. She then began to clutch at certain spots as if bewildered at how hard Hope’s skin was. 

Hope absentmindedly noted that MG had done the same thing earlier. 

After another long minute, she cleared her throat awkwardly. 

“Oh my god.” The girl pulled her hand away quickly, her cheeks flushing a nice rose color. “I’m sorry. I basically just felt you up.” 

Hope willed herself to remain calm, and smirked softly. This was a hard feat to do with her hands full. “Don’t worry about it.” 

She tossed the plastic trays into the recycling bin, and took a step back as the girl continued to stare at her. Hope waved her water bottle in her face. 

“Did you want this back?” she asked. If she could just remain cool and collected for the next five minutes, she would be the happiest person alive. 

“Oh, you can have it,” the girl said, and then clamped her lips shut. She blushed brighter this time, and Hope got the idea that that was not what she meant to say. 

“Really?” 

“No,” the girl laughed, taking it from her hand sweetly. Hope did not miss how her fingers gently brushed against her own. “I paid, like, five bucks for it.” 

She nodded, everything becoming clear. She widened her eyes as if coming to some great revelation. “You must be new, then. First thing you should know: never buy water from the cafeteria, only the vending machines.” 

She kept her tone light, but made sure the brunette knew she was dead serious. 

The girl across from her pouted, and Hope realized that they were still standing in the middle of the cafeteria for way too long to be considered friendly. Even Lizzie’s clique had noticed. “So, the lunch lady scammed me?” 

Hope laughed. “I’m afraid so.” 

The girl laughed then, too, and Hope thought that was a very nice sound. 

“I’m Josie,” the brunette said after they were done, and Hope thought that was a very nice name. 

“Hope.” 

“And I’m Lizzie.” Hope sighed as the blonde suddenly appeared right next to them. She had been so entranced in the girl in front of her she had not even seen her approach. 

“Glad we’ve all introduced ourselves,” Lizzie clipped, and then started to push Josie away. “Now, hurry, Jo, before she corrupts you.” 

Josie threw an apologetic look over her shoulder at Hope, and Hope winced the moment she turned back. 

_ Great. Of course she’s Lizzie’s twin sister.  _


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m sorry, I can’t let a girl try out,” Coach Dorian said, between bites of his hot pocket, very unapologetically in Hope’s opinion. She looked around the locker room at MG, who was changing into his lacrosse uniform and trying very hard to eavesdrop on their conversation. He met her eyes with a silent question, but Hope just turned away. 

“That’s sexist.” She scowled, her eyes darkening. She couldn’t try out? Just like that? 

“No, it’s the rules.” Dorian set down his hot pocket. “Girls are biologically weaker than boys, I would get in a lot of trouble if you got hurt. Parents would riot, blah, blah, blah—“ 

As he explained, a group of teenage boys collided right into Hope. They fell into a set of lockers and started giggling, and Hope noticed that they were all below five feet in height and skinny like toothpicks in build. 

“So,” she interrupted the coach, pointing at the boys as they skipped away. “ _I_ can’t try out, but those scrawny little freshman _can_?” 

Dorian just shrugged and dismissed her. “Sorry, see you in Pre-Calc tomorrow, Hope.” 

“See you in hell,” the girl muttered underneath her breath, returning to MG, who had heard much of the conversation. 

“ _Damn_ ,” he said, putting all his disappointment into that single word. “I’m sorry he’s not letting you try out.” 

“No.” Hope shook her head resolutely. “I’m trying out.” 

—

Five minutes later found Hope and MG in the girls’ bathroom, layering a bunch of clothes on her body to make her seem more masculine. They had decided that Hope would try out as a male, since everyone was supposed to be wearing helmets so no one would catch her anyways. 

“Dude, you’re like five foot three on a good day.” MG looked over her, shaking his head. “This isn’t going to work.” 

“I’m not.” She frowned, offended. Surely, she wasn’t _that_ short. “...I grew over the summer, and besides, Dorian will have no choice but to let me join once he sees how good I am.” 

MG helped her with her helmet—which smelled like a combination of sweat, gum, and deodorant—and she faced the mirror once she was sure her outfit was complete. They had spent the last couple of minutes rummaging through the boys’ locker room and searching for stuff she could wear. 

Her ensemble consisted of a sports bra, two dryfit tees, a long-sleeved shirt, and all the pads underneath her jersey. A large part of Hope wished that she had practiced _with_ all of this added weight over the summer, because she was kind of having a difficult time breathing right now. 

“See, I look like a boy,” Hope told him pointedly, motioning to her reflection. 

“You don’t sound like one.”

“Well, you don’t sound like one either.” 

“ _Hey_ —“ 

The bathroom door swung open, and two brunettes walked in chattering obnoxiously.They stopped as they saw Hope and MG, who froze with panicked expressions on their faces. 

“Ew, creeps,” the girl on the left glared. “The boys’ bathroom is down the hall.” 

The pair just stared, unable to move or even speak. The girl on the right did a shooing motion with her hand, before sighing dramatically. “If you two don’t get out right now, I’m calling the cops and reporting you as sexual predators.” 

Hope picked up her duffel bag off the floor, trailing right behind MG as he sprinted towards the door. The added weight of the pads was unfamiliar for the Mikaelson to run in, but she managed as they got outside and into the hallway. 

“Yes!” Hope cheered as they stopped running, the coast clear. MG threw her a dirty look at the joy written clear across her face, his hands on his hips as he breathed heavily. Hope wondered absentmindedly how he was going to get through practice if he couldn’t handle ten seconds of jogging. “She thought I was a boy!” 

His frown dropped. 

“Oh, shit.” He raised his eyebrows, glancing off to the bathroom. Then, he smiled. “You’re right.” 

His eyes focused on something behind her, and she turned around to glimpse a clock. She noticed immediately that they were almost late to the tryouts. They both swallowed thickly and started running in the direction of the field. 

—

“Don’t be nervous,” MG whispered next to her as Coach Dorian made them all stand in a line. She huffed, breathing heavier than normal. She thought she would suffocate any second now—she was so damn _anxious_ , and the heavy helmet didn’t help at all. 

“Wow, you should be a therapist,” she drawled sarcastically. “You solved all my problems with a single sentence.” 

MG elbowed her the best he could in his own pads. 

“Lighten up.” She could tell he was grinning, even if she couldn’t see his face. She gripped the stick in her hand tighter, rolling her eyes. 

“I’m literally going to kill you,” she said, and then looked back to Dorian as he came closer to them. Her face went pale. “We need to focus. I really want to make it on the team.” 

MG snickered next to her. “Not with that attitude, Mulan.” 

She nearly punched him, but then Dorian moved on from the person on her right and looked at her. She gulped, wondering if he could see through her mask, if he could tell who she really was. 

“Right, so...” He leaned forward, his eyes on her jersey. “Number three?” 

She nodded, not trusting her voice. MG and her had practiced some deeper, more _macho_ tones, but she thought she just sounded like an idiot when using them. 

Dorian wrote down her number, his eyes sweeping over her with amusement, and Hope got the feeling that he was trying hard not to laugh. “Okay, number three, you’re on goal.” 

Very well, he thought she was a _boy_ and he was _still_ underestimating her. Clearly, he assumed he would get a laugh out of everyone else scoring on her, but she would not give him the satisfaction. 

The student-assistant behind Dorian handed her a stick with a larger net and a thicker helmet, and she put them on grudgingly, jogging to the goal with a frown sneered across her lips. 

She waited as Dorian wrote down all the other numbers in line on his clipboard, shocked to see that so many boys were trying out. Then again, lacrosse was the most popular sport to go for in Mystic Falls, even if one wasn’t particularly good at it. 

Hope got lost in her thoughts, scanning the field and area around it mindlessly. She jolted back to the present when her eyes caught a brown-eyed brunette standing with her sister by the bleachers. 

It appeared that Lizzie Saltzman had dragged her sister to her boyfriend’s practice. Hope noticed that there were _actually_ people _watching_ the try outs, but the stands were far from full. Her eyes lingered on Josie as the girl found a spot at the front with her sister, sitting down with small smiles on their faces. 

Hope forced herself to look away as the line of boys dispersed in front of the field, and they instead began to line up in front of _her_. She grimaced at the realization that they weren’t scrimmaging, but doing a shooting drill instead—with everyone against Hope Mikaelson. 

Her stick suddenly felt clumsy within her hand, and she adjusted her grip on it once again. She gulped, her fingers growing number and number by the second. Any minute now, they would freeze and fall off of her hands, she was sure. 

“Alright, freshman first,” Dorian called out, allowing the older and more experienced boys to practice some passing and catching drills off to the side. They joked and messed around with each other directly in front of the coach, as if they were completely certain that they had a spot on the team. 

Hope wrinkled her nose at the arrogance, setting her legs in a similar way to the tutorial video she had watched online. The footwork came to her easily, and she squared her body as the first shooter started to run at her. 

The ball flew from his stick slowly, and she blinked as time seemed to freeze around her. No, that wasn’t right. It didn’t freeze, but only decelerated, but it still gave her enough space to glance around in confusion. 

Remembering herself, she maneuvered her stick and quickly caught the ball, and time resumed again. 

Dorian blinked, as if not expecting her to block the shot even though it was a rather horrible one. She stared back at him, and then set her feet again as the next runner came. 

He shot his ball low, but she did not drop to her knees and caught it just as easily. The boy pouted but accepted his failure as if he expected it, and then promptly walked off the field. 

Hope watched him go with her eyebrows raised, getting slightly distracted as another ball whizzed towards her. In a quick movement, she snapped her stick out and the ball landed in her net. She stared at the ball for a long moment, surprised. Okay, she _had_ practiced over the summer, but her reflexes weren’t _that_ sharp. 

The next couple of boys’ shots were easy enough, but each one came after the other like they had something to prove. It made Hope very nervous, but after the tenth goal she stopped feeling that way, all unease and novelty with the sport leaving her body. 

At one point, MG cheered from his spot on the bench—Hope felt kind of bad, she blocked his shot, too—and she smirked at him, though he probably couldn’t see it, with the large helmet over her head. _Seriously_ , the thing was still suffocating her. 

After about ten minutes of Dorian standing with his mouth dropped open and MG pumping his fist by the water cooler, Hope’s insides filled with dread as she saw that Sebastian was next in line to take a shot. 

She had forgotten that he was even on the team, but looking at him now, it was clear that the boy belonged in the sport. She began to recall MG telling her that the boy was actually the team _captain_ , but she didn’t know if that piece of information was still true today. 

Sebastian glared at her as he sprinted forward, and she squared her body once again. He catapulted the ball towards her with great strength, and her mind short-circuited briefly. It recovered fast enough and her hand shot out with her stick like a bolt of lightning, plucking the ball from the air like it was nothing. 

Through his helmet and from the distance, Hope could see his jaw slacken and then he walked away, throwing his stick down at the ground in indignation. Had the boy really never gotten his shot blocked before? 

She glanced over at the stands as MG began screaming his head off despite the fact that this wasn’t a real game, and she could have sworn that Josie was looking _right_ at her. 

The sound of MG and the rest of the field muted as Josie’s lips formed words. 

“Who is he?” she asked, gesturing at Hope. Hope felt her skin heat to fire, and she looked away, wondering how she could hear the other girl from across the field. How was that possible? 

Maybe this was all a dream...yes, that’s what it was! She was dreaming, and any moment now she would wake up. 

“I don’t know,” Lizzie murmured, and Hope could feel her eyes on her, too. “But he just humiliated my boyfriend, and the secondhand embarrassment is too much for me to handle. Maybe I should date _him_ , instead?” 

Josie laughed, but Hope choked, thinking that this dream was suddenly a nightmare. She tried to pretend she had never heard the blonde utter those words as Coach Dorian called all of them to the middle of the field. 

“Okay, number three,” he said, and Hope snapped her head up. Everyone’s own heads snapped right to _her_. “That was impressive. How are you on offense and defense?” 

Shit. Was he expecting her to answer? 

MG clapped a hand on her back, trying to save her. “Great, sh—he’s great, sir!” 

Dorian frowned. “...Alright. You, Green Lantern, and Birdbrain, middies. Everyone else, get off the field if you’ve never played before. My boys that know me, we’re scrimmaging.” 

MG startled next to her, not expecting to be acknowledged even though he had been on the team since his freshman year; and a boy Hope thought was named Landon Kirby lifted his head up in slight shock. Dorian then stormed off, leaving Sebastian and another tall boy to form their own teams. Unsurprisingly, Hope, MG, and Landon weren’t on Sebastian’s. 

The scrimmage started off very slowly, mostly due to some nerves and fumbling. As Hope got into it, she noticed that Landon was having a hard time balancing himself and keeping up with his feet, while MG was just having a hard time in general. 

She played the best she could with the two of them and the rest of her team weighing her down, even managing to scoop the ball off the ground when the player across from her got checked. 

She sprinted down the field as fast as she could, her eyes training on Sebastian as he stepped up to meet her. She looked around to find someone to pass it to, but none of her teammates could be bothered to even _try_ to open themselves up, and she was left with the only option of dodging him. 

Hope steeled her nerves, pretending to break in Sebastian’s left side and then moving her stick across his face as she bolted right. The boy stumbled back and she left him in the dust, propelling herself forward as she approached the goal. 

The goalie backed up as she faced him, and with all her strength she shot the ball to the right upper corner of the goal. The boy wasn’t fast enough to stop it and it flew right past him into the net. 

She tried not to skip away in joy the best she could, high-fiving MG with her stick as she passed him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dorian write something down on his clipboard. 

After that, Hope scored two more goals, but as most good things do, her luck came to an end pretty quickly. During a fast break where Landon couldn’t transition over fast enough, he smashed into Hope as she attempted to save his ass _and_ the play. 

They both fell to the floor and Landon recovered quicker, pulling Hope up by the hand with his face screwed up in an apology. “Sorry, dude.” 

Blood rushed to Hope’s head as she went from standing to being on the floor to standing _again_ in just a couple of seconds, and she breathed in deeply. It wasn’t enough to pull air into her lungs, and she buckled forward dangerously. 

Without thinking, Hope ripped the helmet off of her head in a desperate attempt to inhale and exhale correctly. It dropped from her hands to the ground, as did every single jaw near her. 

“Crap,” she breathed, her eyes finding Landon’s own wide ones. Some murmurs broke out across the field, and MG gasped near the center as if he had no idea who she was nor participated in their plan in the first place. Hope heard Lizzie Saltzman curse loudly in the stands. 

“Mikaelson?” Dorian made a dying sound at the back of his throat, his clipboard dangling from his fingers weakly. He glanced between her jersey number and her head as if he couldn’t believe it. “You’re number three?” 

“No,” Hope claimed. She had planned on revealing herself when she had made it on the team, definitely not now. Her face scorched red in embarrassment. “I don’t know how I got here. Are we at the school? This field looks kind of familiar—“ 

“We’re going to my office,” he barked out, throwing his clipboard at his student-assistant. “Now!” 

When she stayed completely still, he grabbed her jersey and dragged her after him. Her eyes searched wildly for help, only meeting a familiar, chocolate gaze. 

Josie’s sister was practically steaming next to her, but the brunette just giggled. Hope narrowed her eyes playfully, which only made Josie laugh harder. 

She could not stare at the other girl for much longer before Dorian pulled her away once more. 

—

“So, you’re on the team?” MG asked tentatively. Hope had been in a foul mood since their tryouts, but she had yet to give him any reason as to why. 

“Yes,” she hissed, a leaf falling in front of her face from the tree above her. She swatted at it with misplaced annoyance. “I convinced him to let me on, but he said that I might not get a lot of playing time.” 

“What?” MG scowled. “You performed the best, though. Even better than Sebastian, and he’s the captain. Your father would be—“

She cut him off.

“Don’t say that...” Hope’s words left her as she looked around. The two were currently in the forest, trying to trace back the girl’s steps from the night before to find Dana’s body. “I’m pretty sure she was over here.” 

She peered down at the familiar spot, crouching to feel the leaves she was sure Dana’s body had touched last night. MG glanced at her with concern etched onto his features before straightening up. 

“Um, Hope...” 

He tapped her twice to get her attention and she stood up quickly at the obvious alarm on his face. 

“You can’t be here,” a deep voice spoke from in front of them, causing Hope to bite down on her tongue in surprise. She made a strangled noise at the pain, her eyes finding a leather jacket and a clean-shaven face. 

“We were just leaving,” Hope said quickly, backing away and pulling MG with her. The man nodded tersely and turned away, but the stupid boy next to Hope decided to start talking. 

“Hey, bro!” MG yelled, and Hope winced as her eardrums nearly bursted. “You haven’t seen a dead body lying around, have you?” 

The man just stared intensely at them, causing MG to laugh nervously. “Haha, same. I haven’t either.” 

Hope dug a hand into his back and waved at the man with a short twitch of her fingers, hauling MG away with a tight grip on his jacket. “What kind of question was that?” 

“An innocent one,” MG whisper-yelled. “Which makes him _guilty_ , because he didn’t answer.” 

“So, you can’t just judge him,” Hope whispered back, unsure if the strange man had left yet or if he was still behind them. She didn’t dare check. 

“Oh, come on.” MG smiled, and then it fell off his face as Hope’s expression remained blank. “You’re telling me that you didn’t recognize him?” 

Hope shook her head impassively. “That was Stefan Salvatore!”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You know...with the brother who went kind of crazy?” 

At this, Hope nodded. “Oh...Damon? Freya talks about him sometimes.” 

Granted, her aunt only ever mentioned taking care of him and being his nurse at the hospital, but Hope felt the need to contribute something to the conversation. 

MG’s eyes lit up. “Do you know what happened, then?” 

“Nope.” 

—

Hope locked the door of the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic as the clock struck nine, flipping the sign from _open_ to _closed_. She walked backwards to the small bathroom in the clinic, before remembering that she had yet to feed the cats. 

With a heavy sigh, she lugged the bag of cat food across the hallway and into the room withthe kennels storing the cute felines. 

“Hey, babies,” she cooed, ripping open the bag, but she never finished. To her surprise, the moment she opened the door, they began to hiss and lunge at her through their cages. She backed up immediately into the hallway and closed the door, not wanting to exacerbate their aggression. 

Through the wall, she heard their hissing stop the instant she had disappeared from their vision. Why would they react like that to her? They never had before.

Hopefully, it was not _her_ specifically and she would be able to feed them soon. If not, Marcel would be very upset with her in the morning if he had to do it himself. 

The auburn-haired girl did not have much time to think about it before a knock rapped against the front door of the clinic, and then the same knock sounded repeatedly, almost hysterically. 

Hope jogged to the store front, pausing at what she saw right in front of her. 

_There_ , outside the door, was Josie Saltzman, standing in the rain, knocking frantically against the window. She was absolutely soaked to the bone, and Hope’s lips parted of their own accord. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hope unlocked the door as quickly as possible, her fingers fumbling for her keys. 

Once she opened it, her breath caught at the sight of the girl not three feet away from her. She made a weak sound at the back of her throat as Josie started to hysterically mumble one thing or another. 

Hope thought she looked beautiful. Her hair was wet from the rain, her t-shirt so thoroughly damp that it adhered to her body like glue. Her face was deathly pale, though, the only spot of color a bit of red across her nose. She was also shaking. 

Yes, indeed, her hands were shaking. Her shoulders were shaking. Her lips were shaking. God, her lips, which were bright pink from the rain and maybe something else. They seemed to hypnotize Hope, and she leaned in unconsciously—

Hope snapped out of it and forced herself to stop staring like a creep, taking a deep breath to steel herself for whatever would come next. “What’s wrong?” 

“I didn’t see him coming. Lizzie’s going to murder me, God, Lizzie—“ She glanced back to her car, which Hope only just noticed was the one she had seen Lizzie drive to school many times before. “I didn’t see him coming, I swear. I can’t—oh, no, no, no—“ 

“It’s okay,” Hope tried to tell her, but Josie continued to talk over her. 

“I’m—I’m going to hell, _I_ just killed a d- _dog_ ,” she murmured, wringing her hands together as her eyes flitted around both everywhere and nowhere. “God, he was _so_ cute. So, so cute. I should have died instead...”

It suddenly became clear to the auburn-haired girl that Josie was in shock. 

In a move that was probably far too sudden and far too intimate for just having met, Hope stepped into the rain, reaching out and grabbing a hold of the brunette’s shoulders. 

Josie immediately stopped speaking, her eyes snapping right to Hope’s. Her jaw slackened and she quite obviously gulped. Hope pretended not to notice. 

“It’s okay,” she said once again. “What’s wrong?” 

“I-I hit a dog on the road,” Josie stammered out, her eyes falling to the arms attached to her shoulders. Hope swallowed and swiftly dropped her hands back to her sides, allowing the rain to seep into her clothes. “I, uh, I’m not very good at driving.” 

“That’s okay,” Hope murmured, craning her head past the brunette to look at the road. She didn’t find the aforementioned dog laying dead there, but she wasn’t really surprised. “Do you know where it happened? I can send animal control to go check things out if—“ 

“No, no,” Josie shook her head. “I mean, I do, but the dog isn’t there. I took him.” 

“You took him?” She raised her eyebrows, and Josie furrowed her own before grabbing Hope’s wrist and pulling her to the trunk of her car. She lifted it up with a short clicking sound. 

As soon as the trunk opened, a large, white husky jumped out and barked—very much _alive_. Josie’s tears seemed to dry up when she saw that the dog was not dead, but her face was still very wet. 

Hope gestured for her to wait inside as she examined the dog. Josie pouted, but she seemed to be glad for the reprieve from the rain and listened. The brunette sent the dog and her one last look before walking away. 

Now alone, Hope bit the inside of her cheek as she looked over the husky. He only appeared to have a broken bone that she could probably splint off on her own. Other than that, he was fine. 

Hope tilted her head curiously when she saw that the dog was somehow completely dry, a dark jacket strewn over his body. 

Well, _that_ explained why Josie wasn’t wearing a jacket. 

Hope sighed and managed to move the dog indoors, placing him on an exam table. She grabbed some gauze, knowing that Marcel would probably be mad at her later for not checking in with him first before doing this. Whatever. 

She raised her head to the door of the small space just as Josie walked in from the waiting room. 

“He’ll be fine,” Hope told her minutes later. Josie only continued to shiver, her hands wrapped around herself. It was weird, partly because Hope had never felt the cold the entire time, even when they were outside. She shrugged it off, her eyes narrowing as Josie’s teeth chattered. “Just a broken leg. I can do a splint myself. Don’t worry.” 

Josie nodded, but she had yet to tear her eyes away from the dog on the table. Hope noticed that she also had yet to stop _shaking_. 

“Are you cold?” she asked, peering at the bag she kept in the corner with a spare change of clothes inside. Her voice turned small and reluctant. She hated it. “I have a hoodie, if you want.” 

“Oh, no.” Josie laughed, almost nervously. Hope ran a hand through the husky’s fur, pausing when he started to growl at her. With one intense glare, he stopped and made a tiny whining sound. If her eyes glowed yellow, she failed to realize it. Hope only frowned, but distracted herself when the brunette’s own voice came again. “You’re probably cold, too.” 

“So you _are_ cold?” Hope smirked, releasing the dog and bending down to pick up her bag. She silently handed over a black hoodie, which Josie accepted after a moment’s hesitation. 

Hope turned back to the dog, waiting for the painkiller she gave him to kick in before she did anything. 

“I can take care of the rest, you can go.” Hope glanced over as she spoke, freezing when her eyes met a bare, tan backside. She squeaked—actually _squeaked_ —and turned away, her eyes locking onto the dog’s own by accident. He seemed to laugh at her, and she scowled as Josie turned around. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” she asked, and Hope faced her again only to look away once more. The brunette _still_ hadn’t put the hoodie on, and now Hope could see the curve of her shoulders and—

_Fuck_.

She was wearing a pink Hello Kitty bra. 

It should have been childish, silly, unsexy—it should have been all those things and _more_ —but on the brunette, it only attracted Hope to her further. 

Even as heat scorched her face and painted it red, she glowered at the dog that continued to make sounds that resembled laughter. 

Hope desperately tried to remember that they were both girls and this didn’t mean anything. If Josie felt comfortable enough to change directly next to her, then Hope wouldn’t take advantage of that. Ever. 

Finally, after hours it seemed, Josie pulled on the hoodie and stared at Hope innocently, a small flush to her cheeks. Hope stared back with a guilty expression, her eyes wide and pupils dilated to the extreme. 

“Yeah?” Josie implored softly, and Hope realized that she hadn’t repeated herself yet. 

“I got him. You don’t have to stay,” she said, petting the dog between his ears. “I know you’re probably dying to get home...”

“I’m not,” Josie told her, so quickly that she almost cut Hope off herself. She blushed even darker, and Hope’s mind swarmed with wandering thoughts. 

“I’m so sorry, for all of this,” the brunette added a second later. She did not meet Hope’s eyes, but instead stared into the back of the dog’s head. “I can’t believe I freaked out like that.”

Hope shrugged, wanting her to feel better about what had happened. “I probably would have done the same thing.” 

Josie laughed, a hint disbelieving. “Somehow, I doubt that.” 

Her eyes connected to Hope’s with a sudden burst of emotion, and Hope found herself unable to handle it. She glanced away and chuckled almost anxiously. 

“No, _really_ ,” she insisted. “The first time I saw the doctor euthanize a dog I cried myself to sleep.” 

Hope hadn’t cried, of course—at least, not to sleep—but she had a feeling that hearing her confess such a thing would make Josie feel less embarrassed about it all. 

It seemed to work then, because Josie’s lips stretched into a smile that actually reached her eyes. She nodded and looked away, her fingers wrapping around the edge of the exam table. 

“Still,” she said slowly, “I saw the clinic hours when I came in. You were in the middle of closing up...” 

She trailed off, maybe expecting Hope to answer. The auburn-haired girl didn’t, as she knew not what to say other than that she really didn’t mind, that she couldn’t mind at all when Josie was the reason. She only watched on as the brunette searched for the right words. 

“I’m sorry for keeping you open,” she whispered finally, turning away. She then wiped at one of her eyes with her left hand, almost as if she was trying to keep her tears at bay. Hope quietly observed that the movement had displaced an eyelash to rest high on her cheekbone. 

“Don’t be,” Hope told her, a weird lump in her throat. She was finding it harder and harder to remain silent about the eyelash by the second. After a long moment of no reply, Hope could not resist any longer. 

“You, uh, have an eyelash,” she nearly coughed out, her heart hammering in her throat. She cleared it in vain, adding, “On your cheek.” 

Josie nodded with a faint blush, brushing her fingers along the skin of her cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“You missed,” Hope laughed, which only caused the brunette to grow even pinker. Hope thought offhandedly that the color suited her. “Here.” 

She reached out slowly, glad that Josie let her instead of backing away. That probably would have been much too embarrassing for Hope to stomach. 

She brought her thumb to swipe gently across the space where the eyelash lay, the tips of her fingers skimming Josie’s jaw. Her hand lingered seconds after the eyelash disappeared, and the two girls’ eyes locked dangerously in awareness of their current positions. 

A small yip sounded from the exam table, and Hope quickly pulled her hand away. Her eyes fell on a wagging tail and a large tongue lolling out of the dog’s mouth, who appeared to have been watching them with amusement. 

She narrowed her eyes at him, a scowl pulling at her lips. 

Josie just laughed, all traces of any previous tears gone completely. 

—

“Aunt Freya?” 

Hope pushed in the door of her house with her shoulder, calling out to the dim lighting she could glimpse from the kitchen. 

She received no answer and kicked off her shoes, running a hand through her hair in a useless attempt to dry it out. The rain still hadn’t stopped since she had splinted the dog’s leg and said her goodbyes to Josie, and it stuck to her face in large tangles. 

Hope stepped into the kitchen, moving her hand across the wall to switch off the light, when she saw her aunt sitting at the table. She paused, raising her eyebrows. 

“Aunt Freya?” she murmured again, and Freya finally looked up from the papers she was focusing on. 

“Hope,” she smiled almost sheepishly, setting the documents down. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” 

Hope waved her apology off and threw her backpack underneath the table sloppily, sitting down with a yawn. 

“Your shift at the clinic ran an _hour_ late and you didn’t answer _any_ of my calls,” Freya frowned, inspecting the bags underneath Hope’s eyes. The tone of her voice became stern. “Don’t tell me Marcel’s overworking you. I’ll have to talk to—“ 

“No!” Hope cut her off, her eyes snapping wide open where they were fluttering closed before. She tried to laugh her outburst off. “He’s my boss. That’s embarrassing, and besides...” 

A small smile flickered at the corner of Hope’s lips as she recounted why she was late. She really couldn’t believe that she had gotten so lucky as to spend her evening with the Saltzman brunette. She also felt that something was blossoming between the other girl and herself, and—frankly—she could not wait to explore whatever that was. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Freya smirked a bit, something akin to mirth in her eyes as Hope squirmed underneath her gaze. She stood up a bit hurriedly, her first response to run away and say:

“No reason.” 

Hope regretted the words almost instantly, and she paused by the staircase, biting her lip as she turned back to Freya, who was still staring at her expectantly. 

“Actually,” she started, sucking in a breath that caught like fire in her throat. “I met a...girl.” 

It sounded weird coming out of her mouth, too weighty sitting on her tongue, but she managed to say it nonetheless. Her aunt even seemed to light up at the words and she leaned forward in her chair. 

“Oh, really? What’s her name?” she asked, with no small amount of excitement. Hope hesitated, her fingers tapping against the wall, before she decided to just come out with it. 

“Josie,” Hope told her, with similar excitement. She had only met the girl that afternoon, but there was no denying their instant connection or Hope’s feelings. “Josie Saltzman.” 

Freya froze, almost imperceptibly, but Hope caught it with her newly sharp eyes. Her smile dimmed at the reaction, but she went on. “We talked briefly at lunch, and then she came to the clinic with this dog she hit with her car. Or, err, her sister’s car. Well, that sounds bad, but she felt really guilty about it, I swear—“ 

“Did you say ‘Saltzman’?” Freya interrupted her rambling, the tone of her voice something Hope couldn’t interpret for the life of her. She nodded very slowly. 

“Yeah?” she confirmed, swallowing the rock embedded between her teeth with great difficulty. 

“That’s...nice,” Freya decided, looking back down to her papers. Hope stepped back at the cold dismissal, feeling hurt and despair and—

She felt a lot of things. 

“Goodnight,” her aunt said tersely, and Hope’s eyes darkened as she trudged up the stairs, not even bothering to respond. She wondered what had changed, what had made Freya run so hot and cold, but most of all, she wondered why she suddenly felt so angry. 

In fact, she wanted to march right back downstairs and yell at her aunt for being the one to close up when Hope had chosen to be vulnerable and open for the first time in a _long_ time. 

Instead, she shrugged off her clothing and came to a stand in front of her bathroom mirror. Once she lifted up her shirt, she examined the blood-soaked bandages over her stomach. She was pained to admit it, but she had completely forgotten about the whole bite mark thing. 

She peeled off the bandages slowly, her heart stopping in her chest as she revealed perfect, unmarred skin. Any semblance of teeth marks and jagged, bloody streaks were entirely gone. The bite mark that had plagued her thoughts all of last night was no more. 

Hope’s mouth fell open and she let out a muted gasp, looking down to get a better look at her abdomen herself, not believing what her bathroom mirror was telling her. Yet, the mirror was correct, and the bite mark had faded away to nothing—not even a scar. 

Within a couple of hours, it had somehow _fully_ healed. 

After standing still for nearly five minutes, Hope stepped into the shower. She got out about an hour later, her thoughts distracting her every time she was just about to step out. When her fingers finally began to prune underneath the water that had long turned cold, she wrapped a towel around herself and left the bathroom. 

Hope rubbed absentmindedly at her stomach as she put on her pajamas, slipping into bed after spending a humiliatingly long moment staring out at the moon through her window. 

She fell asleep within seconds. 

_ Hope blinked her eyes open as the forest appeared around her, startlingly bright and sunny enough that she had to close her eyes briefly so they could get used to the amount of light.  _

_ When she opened them again, she noticed a thick mist heaving around her, but she could just make out a figure in the distance. Hope squinted her eyes, flinching back when piercing, red orbs met her own from within the fog.  _

_ As her vision sharpened, she noticed a coat of long, black fur and pointed claws. She stepped back, immediately recognizing the animal that had bitten her the night before.  _

_ The wolf took a step forward with her, and then another, and another, before it pounced completely. Hope fell back, her bare feet pounding into the leaves as she ran as fast as she could. Every breath choked in her lungs, and she grew lightheaded as she continued to sprint.  _

_ She looked back to see if the animal was still chasing her, but that was the wrong move. Of course it was still chasing her—she could hear it growling behind her, she could feel its beady eyes like lasers at the back of her head, she could smell the putrid stench of wet-dog thicker than the cloud of fog in front of her.  _

_ She stopped breathing as she looked back, her foot getting stuck in a pile of mud. She slipped and the wolf took its chance, jumping through the small distance between them and then she was dead, dead, dead— _

Hope jolted awake, her bed sheets pooling messily around her. She clawed a shaky hand at her scalp, and when she pulled her hand back, she found a crushed leaf in her palm. To add, there were smudges of mud on her fingers. 

Hope startled as a slight breeze came from behind her, and she twisted her body swiftly around to discover that her window had somehow opened itself while she was asleep. 

What the fuck? 

—

“Did you find anything out from your mom about Dana?” Hope shut her locker, retrieving her history textbook from it. 

MG shook his head, looking around to make sure no one was listening even though the hallway was empty. To be exact, they were currently late to their shared history class, which Hope actually _really_ wanted to be in right now. 

Part of the reason was because it was only the second day of school, but a larger part was due to Josie Saltzman being in the class. 

“No,” the boy said, and they started walking to their class leisurely. “Just that her death looked like an animal killing. I guess you were right about hearing a wolf the other night, after all.” 

“What do you mean?” Hope asked. 

“Well, the lab said that the bite marks and hairs on her body indicated she was mauled by a wolf.” MG furrowed his eyebrows like he was thinking about something, but he didn’t add anything else. 

“Who told you that?” 

MG grinned, almost abashed. “I was listening in on another one of my mom’s calls.” 

“Right.” She raised her eyebrows but didn’t comment. “Are they any closer to figuring out that the dead body is Dana, then?” 

“Nope,” MG popped the last syllable as Hope opened the door of the classroom for them both. “But I’m telling you, we need to find her body—“ 

MG stopped talking as he realized that the class was dead silent, and Hope’s eyes flashed around the room as every single person looked up to stare at them. Both of their throats bobbed noticeably, not expecting the room to be quiet when they walked in.

“Bo—booty. Not body. Butts, yeah!” MG corrected himself, looking quite proud at his ability to cover up for them, but Hope clenched her eyes shut in embarrassment. 

_ Yay. Now we both look like perverts.  _

When Hope managed to open her eyes again, they met chocolate, curious ones. Josie Saltzman stared openly at her, chewing on the end of her pencil as she tilted her head. One of her hands fingered the string of her hoodie, which Hope saw—

_Oh_.  


She was wearing Hope’s hoodie.  


Hope didn’t have a lot of time to think about that as the students around her started to snigger and whisper, which the teacher—Mr. Vardemus—was having none of. 

“Hey, _no_ talking!” he scolded. “This is a pop quiz, not the lacrosse team’s locker room.” 

He then turned to MG and Hope, who had been attempting to sneak to their seats. They both stopped dead in their tracks, turning back slowly with dread. 

“Miss Mikaelson! Mister Greasley!” he exclaimed, missing the way two students in the back leaned over to discuss quiz answers. Hope’s shoulders deflated. “I will be marking both of you tardy. You can explain your absence to the disciplinary office, as I care not for any excuse you can come up with. Please find your seats and start working on your quizzes.” 

The pair proceeded to just stand, rooted to their spots. 

“Quickly, now. You have less time than your classmates, I would start as soon as possible if I were you two,” Mr. Vardemus said firmly, and MG leaped for his seat as Hope laughed. 

“Who gives a pop quiz on the second day of school?” she asked, genuinely puzzled, and the history teacher just scowled and shooed her away. Some students mumbled words of agreement but Hope sat down and decided not to argue over a piece of paper. 

By the time the class ended, Hope was sure that she thoroughly failed the quiz. She didn’t know a single answer on it, and the girl had even started playing games with the bubbles on the scantrons. 

_ Bubble gum, bubble gum, in a dish— _

The bell rang, and Hope sprung up and almost fell out of her seat, still not used to the sound despite the fact that this was her last period of the day and she had gone through this same thing yesterday. 

She turned in her quiz to Mr. Vardemus, who made a face despite the fact that he hadn’t even graded it yet. Josie waved at her as she left the classroom, and Hope grimaced out an awkward smile, hoping that the brunette didn’t think she was obsessed with ass after the stunt MG pulled. 

She watched the spot where the girl had disappeared through the door long after she left. 

“Come on.” MG grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the door. “We have practice.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things should pick up next chapter, i might stray from canon teen wolf a little so don’t hate me haha, and i apologize for taking so long to reply to comments, but i promise i will soon :)


	4. Chapter 4

Hope shifted her feet as she waited for her turn in the shooting drill the team was currently doing, her eyes roaming around the lacrosse field. 

There weren’t as many boys as she had seen the day before at tryouts, but there was still a considerable amount here. Most were fooling around near the benches, not even pretending that they would get any playing time. Though Hope knew she probably wouldn’t either, she still wanted to put effort into the sport and at least try. 

It was the only way she would be able to make first line and then get the title of Team Captain later. Like her father once had. 

Hope let out a quiet sigh, weighing her stick in her hand as she moved forward up one spot in line. There were about ten boys before her, so the girl figured that she had at least a minute or two until it was her turn to go. 

She nervously eyed Sebastian near the front of the line, who was playing defense in the drill. She could almost make out the deranged smirk on his face as he watched his next opponent come forward. He then steeled his long stick and easily checked the boy across from him. 

In fact, barely anyone had made it past Sebastian so far, and those that did still hadn’t been able to score against the next line of defense—the team’s resident goalie who Hope knew two things about. 

One, his name was Jed. 

Two, Jed was gay. 

“Hurry...” Hope’s ears perked up at two familiar voices by the stands, her eyebrows shooting to her hairline at what she saw—a pair of sisters climbing the bleachers, the blonde twin leading them.

Hope frowned, suddenly feeling insecure and a bit nervous. 

Why the hell were Josie and Lizzie Saltzman watching a lacrosse practice? A practice wasn’t nearly as serious as the tryouts the day before or the game they would have in a week. 

Another good point to make: 

How the hell could Hope hear them once _again_? It seemed that her weird, new abilities still hadn’t vanished from yesterday. 

“We have to make sure Sebastian sees me being the supportive girlfriend I am,” Lizzie continued, and Hope silently observed the girl as she looked around for her boyfriend on the field. “...And then we can ditch this cesspool of testosterone and grab lunch.” 

Hope’s gaze softened as the soothing tone of Josie’s voice filled her ears. The field and lacrosse sticks around her melted away, and she unconsciously turned her entire body to face the girl. 

“I thought he embarrassed you,” Josie remarked as she sat down, almost absentmindedly. A delicate flush rose to her cheeks, and the small smile playing on her lips grew teasing. “Didn’t you say something about wanting to date Hope instead?” 

Lizzie’s face lost all color, and she bent forward as if nauseous. At the mention of her name, Hope quickly pulled her helmet down more fully to hide her own face. She then twisted her body forward and away from them, hoping that they hadn’t noticed she was listening in on their conversation. 

Yet...

How could they? 

“Yuck,” Lizzie gagged out, making plenty of weird retching noises and even dry-heaving her lungs out to let Hope know exactly what she thought of Josie’s words. “Forget about getting lunch. I just lost my appetite.” 

The two of them giggled as Hope scrunched up her nose and narrowed her eyes at Lizzie. Thankfully, neither of them noticed once more. 

“Anyways...” The blonde flipped her hair to one side, her tone matter-of-fact. “Sebastian assured me that there wouldn’t be another mishap like yesterday again.” 

Hope scowled, wondering what that meant for her. She opened her mouth to form some sort of question, before she realized that she wasn’t supposed to be listening in on their conversation and that they wouldn’t be able to hear her. 

Lizzie then turned to face her sister, intent on saying more, when she suddenly trailed off, looking Josie up and down as she paused. 

“Why are you still wearing that?” she asked, with no small hint of suspicion. Hope’s eyes flew over the hoodie pulled snugly over Josie’s body, a small smile tugging at her lips. The temperature had only been rising since the morning, yet Josie chose to still keep it on. Why? “I thought I saw you come home with that on last night after you trashed my car.” 

“Okay, one,” Josie defended, her tone a bit exasperated as if this wasn’t the first time she had had to do so. It made Hope chuckle underneath her helmet. “There was barely even a scratch. And two, my Chem teacher dresscoded me in the hallways.” 

Lizzie made a humming sound, listening carefully as Josie explained. “Apparently, I was showing too much skin for her to handle. It was either this hoodie or a sweaty gym shirt.” 

The blonde grew thoughtful. “Chem teacher...hmm, Missus Anderson?” 

Josie simply nodded, causing her sister to smirk happily with the joy of being right. “I _knew_ it. That bitch has always been such a prude. I don’t know how she got married. I’ll teach you how to hide from Anderson tomorrow. I first met her in freshman Bio. You learn pretty quickly after a couple of years here...” 

“Mikaelson, what are you waiting for?!” 

Hope snapped back to her surroundings with a shake of her head. She blinked as Dorian continued to stare expectantly at her, cocking his head to the side for any response. Her throat bobbed as she realized that Sebastian was also waiting across from her, his eyes narrowed in disdain and confusion. 

Behind her, someone shoved her shoulders encouragingly, attempting to push her forward and out of her daydreaming. It worked, and she took off towards Sebastian in a daze, half of her mind still thinking about Josie Saltzman. 

It appeared that Sebastian was also distracted, because he kept his cleats grounded to the grass as she approached him. She presumed it to be an error in judgement—for good defense was played with hot feet—but she quickly noted that he was solely focused on her.

She tried to move past him but he had other plans, knocking her shoulder roughly with his entire body and sending her straight to the ground. Her head clanged against the dirt and sent her reeling, and she gritted her teeth as the left side of her body began to ache. 

The move was incredibly dirty and beyond illegal, but Coach Dorian, for his part, could not see passed his devotion to his precious Team Captain Sebastian. 

Along with MG and some other boys, Dorian kneeled beside her, his eyes flickering between Sebastian and her. “Are you okay?” 

She forced herself to get up despite the fact that she wasn’t, and her head punished her for it. She swayed forward and even coughed before the dizziness left her completely, and she wondered if she had ever felt the pain at all, or if it was only a figment of her imagination. 

“Yes, yes,” she hurried to say, not wanting Dorian to think her weak or below the others. She tried her best not to glare in Sebastian’s direction. “I’m fine.” 

Sebastian had none of that. He sent a cruel smirk in her direction before smoothing over his features with concern. “She seems pretty hurt, Coach. Maybe she should take a break.” 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Hope repeated, ripping off her helmet with something that sounded a lot like a snarl. 

What the hell? She tried not to shake with anger, but it was proving difficult. Was Sebastian trying to get her kicked out of practice on the second day? 

Dorian swept his anxious eyes over her one last time before lingering on Sebastian. He made a decision the next moment. “Okay, Mikaelson, go sit down.” 

He paused. “Actually, go ahead and take this practice off to rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Hope barely escaped the embarrassment of throwing her helmet to the ground in a fit of rage, but she was able to keep enough control to stalk off silently. However, she couldn’t miss Dorian’s next words, not even if she had been standing an entire field away. 

“Sebastian, good job on taking the lead and making quick decisions. That’s what I expect from the team captain.” He even clapped the boy on the back, who smiled innocently as he met Hope’s venomous look. 

MG followed her away from the little group that had formed near the spot where she fell, his posture timid and apologetic. 

“Taking the lead?” Hope threw herself onto the nearest bench, clenching her fists into tight wads of gloves and anger. She bit out, “The only decision he made was screwing me over.” 

“Calm down, Hope,” MG attempted to placate her, laying a light hand on her shoulder, but the action was too much. She stood up like a bolt of lightning, her teeth bared. 

She had never been this angry before, not even when her parents had died. It was as if she couldn’t even control it, not when she growled at MG, not when she just barely avoided spitting in his face. 

Why was she so angry? 

The humiliation she felt only fueled her indignation. Had Josie seen the way she tumbled to the ground like a rag doll? Had she been able to hear Dorian sending her off the field? 

“No,” Hope seethed, red-streaked gold scorching her vision. Her eyes became likened to target sights, her pupils dilated to black holes. “He did that on fucking purpose.” 

She looked over at Sebastian, that same red and gold curling around her vision and lighting him up like a torch. She wondered how fast she could cross the distance from the benches to him, how fast she could pull the boy apart limb from aching limb—

“Dude!” MG suddenly squeaked, jumping about a foot in the air as his voice resembled that of a little boy’s. “Your eyes are yellow!” 

“My eyes are what?” The shock was enough for her to blink out of her angry haze, the golden light leaking out of her vision and leaving her eyes clear and blue in its place. 

“H-how?” MG stammered out the word, stumbling back, and for the life of her, Hope could not tell if he was afraid of her or just simply in shock. He looked away with a hand over his heaving chest, before extending the arm out and pointing somewhere distant. “Hey, isn’t that Stefan?” 

Surely enough, Stefan Salvatore was standing off to the side of the field, a good distance away from them. Yet, Hope could still catch a glint of light emanating from his face, just an instant of glowing, blue orbs. Her mouth fell open as she became swept into a trance of sorts, that familiar yellow color flooding her sight once again. 

For just a second, a familiar scent wafted into Hope’s nose, like sweat and dirt and energy drinks. It briefly reminded Hope of Sunday night, but she couldn’t completely place the feeling. 

Within the next moment, blue and gold extinguished as Stefan crossed his arms and stepped back, beginning to walk away. She could only stare off after him, wondering why her ears were ringing like wolf howls. 

—

“Just go with it.” MG gave Hope a cheery smile as he all but threw her out of her own car. He had been the one to drive them here, with the promise of making her feel better after the lacrosse practice that they had been excused from about an hour prior. To be exact, Hope had been excused and MG just ditched. “Good food always makes you feel better.” 

“That’s _you_ ,” Hope sighed, staring up at the letters painted across the rooftop of the Mystic Grill. “Naps make me feel better. _Sleep_ makes me feel better. I could be in bed right now. I could be—“ 

“Okay, I get it,” MG told her, chuckling, but his laughter came out too sharp. She glanced at him with visible concern as he opened the door of the restaurant for her. “It’s just, how can you even think about sleeping right now? I feel like so much has happened this week.” 

He began to babble on quietly as they sat themselves down in a booth. “First, Dana dies, killed by a wolf of all things, and then you get bitten by one and the mark heals the next day.” 

Hope had told him all about her vanishing injury and her weird dream on the car ride over, following her bout of yellow eyes and newfound inclination towards anger. 

“...Not to mention, you can hear things no one else can,” he continued thoughtfully, his eyes prancing around the restaurant. “Wait, did Lizzie say anything about me when you were eavesdropping on her conversation?” 

“I wasn’t _eavesdropping_.” Hope scrunched up her eyebrows, pouting slightly. “And why would she? Blondie has a boyfriend, remember?” 

MG nodded but seemed not to hear her words, his irises still skirting across the room—Hope thought that he was maybe looking for someone to serve them or take their order. Then, his eyes widened dramatically as he looked somewhere passed her shoulder. 

“Oh, god,” he muttered in a frenzy, reaching for the collar of the shirt he had changed into and straightening it. He smoothed over the wrinkles in the fabric to no avail. Hope glanced behind her, automatically ducking her head down when she noticed Josie and Lizzie Saltzman sitting in a booth of their own. 

Josie had taken off the hoodie which was now strewn over her lap like a napkin, and Hope’s eyes dipped down to take in the skin her small shirt revealed. She immediately cursed herself for such an action and looked away. 

Huh. One would think she would have noticed the sisters more quickly given her new superhearing and all. 

“Let’s leave,” Hope told MG, standing up to make a quick exit out of the door. The boy stood up as well, like he was following her, before he changed directions and instead swaggered towards the twins’ table. He put his hands in his pockets casually, and Hope had the thought that the boy probably thought he looked cool. 

She cringed and followed after MG to pull him back, but he had already reached their table. 

“Hey, girls,” he said, and she dearly wanted to slap him. Both sisters turned to look at him, one with a curious expression and the other with a dirty look. Hope rubbed a nervous hand at the back of her neck. “Do you mind if we join you?” 

Fuck. Hope definitely had not expected him to ask that. MG had never been a brave person in his _life_ , save for his tenacity when it came to Lizzie Saltzman. 

The boy gestured a thumb at Hope, who snapped her eyes to Josie’s just as the brunette stared right back at her. The two silently agreed that they wouldn’t mention last night, even if it killed Hope not to think about it. Josie then tilted her head and smiled something endeared, clearly enjoying herself. 

“Of course not,” she said, at the same time her sister snarked:

“We do mind, actually.” 

Josie turned to the blonde with surprise, perhaps not knowing how cruel Lizzie Saltzman could truly be to other people outside her own clique. Lizzie just sat and plastered on a fake smile, unwavering. 

MG panicked. 

“We’ll pay for your food!” he blurted, running his fingers through his hair nervously, which got stuck. He grimaced out a shy smile as Lizzie took her time thinking over it. Josie herself looked alarmed at the fact that her sister was actually contemplating the boy’s offer. 

Again, the twins spoke in unison. 

“Don’t be silly!” 

“You have a deal.” 

Hope glared at her friend. She was already supposed to pay for MG’s food, so that meant she was now paying for everyone. Whatever. 

The pair of friends slid into the seats across from Josie and Lizzie, one much more excited than the other. Hope could already feel the dread pooling into her stomach like thick knots of rope. She could only hope that MG wouldn’t do something to embarrass them further. 

Just as they settled into their seats, a server came by to take their orders, bringing complimentary glasses of water with him. 

Hope jumped at the man’s sudden appearance, her foot accidentally colliding with Josie’s across from her. An instant apology reached her lips, her eyes flashing up to Josie, but the girl was seemingly pretending not to have noticed, her own eyes trained on the menu she was holding. 

Hope then looked over at Lizzie, thinking that maybe she had hit her instead, but the blonde appeared none the wiser. _Hmm_. 

“I’ll have a cheeseburger, no onions, please,” MG told the server, who then looked at Hope to order. 

“Just a peanut butter—“ Hope choked on her saliva as a shoe glided against her shin and kicked softly. It was the softest of touches, the gentlest of caresses, yet she felt it down to her bones. 

Hope leaned forward and coughed as MG patted her unhelpfully on the back, her eyes shooting towards Josie, who was still staring intently at her menu, a small smirk on her face. 

“Peanut butter blast,” Hope recovered slowly, her eyes not leaving the brunette’s face for a long moment. Lizzie gave her a death glare in warning, causing her to look away hesitantly. “Whipped cream on the bottom. Thank you.” 

The man taking their order moved onto Josie, who ordered some sandwich-salad combo while Hope considered retaliating. She ultimately decided not to, since she couldn’t even tell if it was the brunette who had hit her in the first place. 

Still, the moment Lizzie opened her mouth, Hope wished that she had kicked _her_ instead. 

“What would you recommend, the roasted chicken or the sweet tea fried chicken?” she asked, tilting her head to the side in wonder as if this was the first time she had ever been in the town, as if she was simply touring the area. Hope raised her eyebrows but kept her mouth tightly shut, even when Lizzie ignored the server’s preference of the roasted chicken. “You know what? I’ll have both. Oooh, add on the wedge salad, too, please. The spinach salad doesn’t sound so bad, either. Actually, I’ll take that one as well.” 

The rest of the booth swiveled their heads between the server—who was hurriedly writing down everything—and Lizzie, who continued to order almost every plate of food on the menu. She was obviously taking full advantage of MG’s offer to an excessive extent, so much so that the boy was now gazing at Hope with a clear, pleading apology in his eyes. 

“Come on, Lizzie,” Josie interrupted after about a solid minute of the blonde making her way through half of the menu. Her cheeks were tinged a delectable pink, clearly embarrassed. “Let’s not pretend you’re going to eat all of that.” 

Hope hummed in agreement, absentmindedly wondering if she had enough cash on her or if she was going to have to use her card. Lizzie whirled her head around at her the second the sound left her mouth. 

“ _Please_.” She rolled her eyes, a clear look of exasperation on her face. She then parroted Josie’s own words, squinting slightly at Hope. “Let’s not pretend you’re poor.” 

She turned back to her twin with a sickly-sweet smile. “Don’t worry, sister dear, she can afford it.” 

She then resumed ordering the other half of the menu. Hope watched with a scowl curling her lips, which dropped in surprise when a foot sharply kicked her shin again. Her eyes found their way back to Josie, and this time Hope was sure the other girl had done it.

Without much deliberation, Hope swung her leg and delivered a kick of her own. Josie visibly jumped in response, which proved enough to garner Lizzie’s attention. The blonde paused and arched a single brow at her sister, who shrugged and collided her foot against Hope’s with renewed vigor. 

The two started a game of footsie underneath the table as Lizzie finished her order and the server walked away. Every kick received one in return, and damn, Josie Saltzman gave much more than she got. Hope was really trying to be considerate, but the girl across from her had absolutely no mercy. 

“So,” MG started awkwardly, trying to make conversation. “How are you liking Beacon Hills? I heard you came from France, right?” 

Josie’s foot stilled. 

“Yeah,” she smiled, before sending an extra-hard kick right to Hope’s ankle. The auburn-haired girl smirked through the pain, clenching a single fist on her lap. “Everyone’s been really friendly and welcoming. The move has been sorta hectic, though. The airport lost one of my suitcases, so my closet is kind of bare. I’ve spent most of my time here searching for clothes.” 

Her smile brightened, and Hope found her own lips doing the same without her permission. The brunette joked, “Lizzie doesn’t like sharing.” 

_ Hmm. That explains the Hello Kitty bra.  _

“Sorry?” Josie pinked, and Hope’s heart dropped. Had she said that out loud? She cleared her throat and looked around, realizing that the entire table was staring at her. Yes. It seemed that she had. 

“I didn’t say anything,” she tried to claim, but everyone only continued to stare at her. The impressed look on MG’s face and the disgusted one on Lizzie’s only made her feel worse. 

“Okay...” Josie looked as eager as Hope to move on. “When did you two meet?” 

She glanced between Hope and MG meaningfully, ignoring Lizzie’s heavy sigh. The pair of friends then looked at each other, silently deciding that MG would answer. Hope was glad for the distraction, wanting to crawl underneath the table and escape this situation.

“Kindergarten,” he said, beaming. “We didn’t have the best start, though.” 

He explained at the similar looks of interest he got. “Well, I stole a single crayon from her the first week of school so she took my entire box of them the next day and let them all melt out in the sun during recess. I cried for an hour until the teacher made us agree to share hers. We’ve been _besties_ ever since...”

If _that_ wasn’t enough for Hope to cringe at, his next words definitely were. “What about you guys? When did you meet?” 

Hope palmed her forehead with a wince. Did MG really just ask them when they first met? Flushing, she forced her gaze to her lap, nearly choking again when a familiar shoe began brushing across that same spot of her ankle, almost soothingly. It drifted up against her calf before dropping completely. From this angle, Hope could tell for certain that the leg belonged to Josie. 

The brunette then giggled behind her hand as Lizzie remarked, quite dryly, “In the womb.” 

A piece of paper could have dropped a mile away and the table would have heard it. 

MG spluttered with an extreme blush rising to his neck, the smile on his face sheepish and embarrassed. “R-right.” 

Luckily, his phone beeping in his pocket saved him from the humiliating silence that followed. He fished it out with clumsy hands, nearly dropping it into his glass of water. 

“Oh,” MG breathed, staring at the text message on his phone with unseeing eyes. He finally looked up after a long second. He then turned to Hope, his voice a tad lower. “That was my mom.” 

“Are you in trouble?” she murmured, but not quietly enough that the girls across from them couldn’t hear. She grinned, teasing, “Did she find your bottle of lube again?” 

Hope was really only kidding, but MG didn’t find it funny at all, especially since Lizzie and Josie were now giggling with their heads thrown back. Hope had to blink twice to believe the fact that she had made Lizzie Saltzman laugh. 

“ _No_!” the boy denied quickly, redder than he had been only a few seconds ago. MG then raised his eyebrows at his friend pointedly and said, very slowly, “She was asking if I’ve seen Dana Lilien around or if I’ve talked to her recently. Dana’s mom filed a missing persons report an hour ago.” 

Hope swallowed, the blood in her veins turning to ice. Images of the bare, top-half of Dana’s body—buried between leaves and left to rot like an animal carcass—flashed in her mind. It clouded her vision and darkened her eyes, and her nose stung with that familiar scent she had smelled on Stefan Salvatore earlier. 

“Dana?” Lizzie bit the inside of her cheek across from the pair, her eyebrows furrowed. Josie sat up next to her, fiddling with her hands in her lap. It was enough to distract Hope, whose eyes strayed down before she remembered herself. “She hasn’t been in school for two days, and her mom _just_ noticed?” 

“ _You_ noticed?” Hope asked, knitting her own eyebrows together. Since when did the blonde have a single, compassionate bone within her entire body? 

Hope almost took back the words when she realized that she might have come off as rude—if the look Lizzie was giving her was any indication, Hope had definitely offended her in some way. 

The auburn-haired girl smartly chose to keep her mouth shut as Lizzie smartly chose to pretend Hope hadn’t spoken at all. 

“Dana’s on the soccer team,” Lizzie continued, at Josie’s curious expression. The blonde examined her nails as she spoke. “She carries the delusional belief that girls’ soccer rules the school, despite lacrosse’s three consecutive state championships. Sebastian told me that she tried taking away from their funding...”

Not caring for gossip, both MG and Hope turned back to each other as the sisters talked. 

“Has your mom made the connection yet? With the body?” Hope whispered, a bit heatedly. The boy shook his head with much of the same vigor.

“MG,” she lowered her voice urgently, coming to a sudden, intense revelation that took her breath away. Her mind swarmed with visions of crunched leaves and blonde hair matted with blood and dirt. “I don’t think it was an animal that killed her. I—“ 

She paused, wondering if she was going crazy. Yet, she could no longer ignore what she had smelled on the Salvatore brother during lacrosse practice, what she had smelled on him in the woods without truly noticing. At the time, it hadn’t even consciously registered in her mind, but now it was all she could remember. 

“I think Stefan did.” 

—

Later that night, Hope sat at her bedroom desk, her laptop open in front of her. 

“So, you smelled Dana on him?” MG’s voice came from the screen, his eyebrows raised to his hairline. 

“I know it’s weird,” Hope admitted, feeling slightly odd talking about something so important via video chat. “But I’m certain of it.” 

“Hold on...” MG disappeared from the screen, and Hope could only hear the sound of papers ruffling and the boy’s desk chair swiveling. Then—

“Okay, I’m making a list.” His voice came again. “Let’s see: superhealing, superhearing, super...smelling?” 

His words ceased momentarily. The silence was almost thoughtful. “Hey, what do I smell like?” 

A wrinkle formed between Hope’s eyebrows as she considered his question. She pursed her lips, before shrugging. Realizing that he was off-camera and couldn’t see her, she answered honestly, “I don’t know.”

“Boo.” 

“Shut up.” Hope laughed. “What else do you have?” 

“Hmm,” MG went on, scribbling something down. “Killer reflexes, wolf-y dreams, in love with Josie Saltzman, prone to anger—“ 

“What did you just say?” Hope interrupted, the moment his words fully registered. She immediately regretted asking. 

“You were staring at her the entire time at lunch!” he yelled, his triumphant face appearing back on the screen. She huffed, bristling underneath the accusation as she lowered the volume on her laptop. It wouldn’t do well if Freya came in and heard this load of nonsense. 

“I was staring at her food,” Hope tried, leaning away from her camera so the boy couldn’t see the way she was blushing. “I wanted to know what sandwich she ordered. It looked good.” 

“Oh, so you were just hungry?” he implored, casually. Hope narrowed her eyes.

“Exactly.” 

“Got you again!” MG grinned even wider. “You barely touched your milkshake.” 

“Like how Lizzie barely touched any of her food?” Hope deflected. “The bill came out to over two hundred dollars, you piece of shit—“ 

“I chipped in!” MG argued, scowling and pointing his finger at her through the screen. The sight almost made her chuckle, but she somehow managed to keep her willpower.

“Yeah, the _two_ dimes you found in your back pocket!” 

“And a penny, don’t forget the penny—“ 

“MG!” Hope heard Veronica Greasley’s voice distantly. “What’s all that yelling for?!” 

“I gotta go—“ The sound of the video call ending brought Hope to smile and shake her head with silent laughter. She stood up from her chair and stretched, changing into a thinner shirt for the night and organizing her backpack for the morrow. 

She then made sure her phone was charging before she collapsed into her bed. 

She was dead to the world the second her head hit the pillow. 

_ Hope stared at the bright, sunny sky with a determined smirk. She scooped up the lacrosse ball rolling on the ground into her net, dodging a defender and swooping right past them. Her eyes remained on the grass, sidestepping every pair of feet she could see as she approached the goal.  _

_ Once she was within a few feet of the goalie, Jed, she flitted her eyes up and instantly froze. Right in front of her eyes, Jed’s form transformed into that of a wolf’s—black and gangly, standing straight up. The wolf’s piercing red eyes seemed to look right through her, and the ball in her net suddenly became heavy.  _

_ She fought against the impulse to drop the stick in her hand, even though it weighed her down so completely she feared her fingers might break.  _

_ Canines shot from yellow teeth and a bloody mouth, saliva sticking to fur in the most disgusting places. Hope swallowed, her own eyes turning gold as they met the red ones across from her.  _

_The wolf growled, and a similar sound erupted in her own chest without her consent. The beast then abruptly snapped its head up to the sky, which had darkened much more extremely than Hope remembered. Hadn’t it just been light blue? Yet now, she could just make out the beaming circle of the moon, and it appeared to call out to her._

_ She raised her head, the growl in her chest turning into something of a howl, but she managed to clench her teeth closed and prevent the noise from coming out.  _

_ The wolf across from her showed no such restraint, and opened its mouth with a defeating scream. Hope clamped her hands over her ears, dropping the stick and the ball to the ground.  _

_ When she was able to bring her eyes back to the wolf’s, she no longer saw red, but blue.  _

Hope shot up out of her sheets, her fingers twisting into them with a white-knuckled grip. When she was finally able to collect herself, she released her fingers from her bed and brought a single hand up to her chest. 

Her eyes darted around the room, untrusting and unforgiving. She could barely catch her breath, despite the abundance of oxygen in the room. The air conditioner pulsed above her head as if to mock her, and she slowly became consumed by her thoughts. 

What had that dream been all about? The longer Hope thought about it, the more the answers seemed to evade her.

Finally, the act of Aunt Freya yelling her name from downstairs snapped her out of her dream-induced state, and she absentmindedly realized that she was sweating. In fact, the collar of her thin shirt was soaked. 

Hope swiftly got up to take a shower, but one look at the clock on her phone told her that she didn’t have nearly enough time. She wiped at her skin with a spare towel before throwing on a random outfit, grabbing her backpack from the leg of her desk and bolting down the stairs just as Freya yelled out to her again. 

“Morning.” Hope’s voice was rough in all the wrong places, and she imagined that the collar of her new shirt was still lined with sweat. She rubbed at her chest offhandedly, the straps of her backpack digging uncomfortably into her shoulders. 

“Hey,” the woman called from the kitchen, her tone nothing but nonchalant. The familiarity of it all failed to be enough to calm Hope’s pounding heart. “So, I cut myself making breakfast...” 

Freya trailed off, standing up from where she had been bent over to look through the cabinets. “...And I was looking for the first-aid kit. Care to explain this?” 

Freya then held up a very familiar first-aid kit, which had been previously hiding in her grip underneath the counter and below her waist. Hope’s breath caught in her throat as the latch on the kit swung open and revealed nearly inexistent contents—and two empty boxes of bandages. There was only a single bottle of antiseptic left, which dangled out of the case as her aunt continued to stare expectantly at her. 

Hope’s throat bobbed. Her heart stopped. Her lungs ached for lack of breathing. “I get a lot of paper cuts?” 

“Really?” Freya said, tiredly. She appeared not to believe Hope one bit. 

“Nosebleeds?” Hope offered. She, too, was tired. In fact, her mind was so foggy she could barely form words. 

“You have three boxes of tissues in your room. I stock them myself.” 

“I sprained my ankle during practice?” 

Every excuse was lamer than the last one, and the woman could see right through her. 

“You’re walking just fine.” 

Hope didn’t even try countering that one. 

“This isn’t funny, Hope,” the woman continued. “These supplies are expensive. I find your ability to make excuses for yourself very disrespectful to me and what we stand for...” 

Freya continued to go onto a long rant about respect and character, which only served to make Hope’s brain hammer against her skin. She rubbed her fingers exhaustively against her forehead, searching for any relief at all. 

But, when she finally closed her eyelids, she could only catch remnants of scorching red and glimmering blue within the darkness of them. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Freya asked, suddenly much too close for comfort. When Hope jerked her eyes open, the woman was barely three inches away from the auburn-haired girl. 

“I, y-yes,” Hope stammered, backing up. A crawling sensation gathered just beneath her skin, her ears prickling uncomfortably. She needed to get away. Anywhere but here. She needed to cool off. “Yes.” 

“Hope, I’m becoming concerned...” Freya placed a too hot hand on Hope’s forearm, and she instantly recoiled and stepped away. “You’re not acting like yourself. Are you doing drugs?” 

“Drugs?” Hope spluttered, her pupils blown. Her answer seemed to convince Freya. 

“In my car. Now.” The woman grabbed her bag and pulled her keys out. She remained oblivious to her niece’s inner turmoil. “I’m taking you to the hospital to have you tested.” 

The last straw was, decidedly, her attempt to drag Hope along with her. It was too much all at once, and the girl exploded. 

“Leave me alone!” she bit out, her mouth formed into a snarl. Sharp teeth poked at the edges of her lips, drawing blood. Her eyes glowed a stark yellow before she could calm down or get a hold on herself. 

Unfortunately, Freya saw everything before she could even attempt to hide it, and what was worse—the woman didn’t even look surprised. In fact, the set of her shoulders relaxed, like accepting or confirming a deep suspicion. 

“I n-need to go,” Hope stuttered out, throwing her hands up in surrender. When she glanced at them, she caught a glimpse of razor-sharp nails poking at the ends of her fingertips. Freya caught them, too. “I-I’m going to be late for school.” 

“I’m, uh, late,” she said, again, and then she was gone. 


	5. Chapter 5

Hope Mikealson was a mess the entire drive to school. 

At one point, she was afraid she might break the steering wheel in half—and ten minutes later, when she pulled into the parking lot and a car honked at her, she actually did just _that_. 

Luckily enough, she could still drive with the other half of the steering wheel somehow, and she managed to park in her usual spot just fine. 

It took her a minute to collect herself, to gather the courage to get out of the car. 

  
  
Her eyes darted wildly around as she struggled to calm herself down. In the rearview mirror, the sight of stark, yellow eyes greeted her.   


More than a little startled, Hope jumped so high she hit her head on the roof of the car. After a couple of long seconds, her heart rate began to slow down and the yellow in her vision faded back to blue.

When Hope finally stepped out of the car, it was with her backpack clenched in one hand and the broken steering wheel in the other. 

She ignored the weird looks some students gave her and entered the main hallway of the school, keeping her head down as she rounded a corner. 

That wasn’t the smartest decision, because it caused her to bump into an innocent passerby. 

A _very_ innocent passerby. 

Who turned out to be none other than Josie Saltzman. 

Just Hope’s luck. 

Josie fell to the floor like a bag of stuffed animals, and Hope hurriedly kneeled down next to her, spewing apologies. 

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated at least three times, getting hit with the sudden and intense urge to reach out and help the other girl stand back up. 

She waited for the urge to pass. It didn’t. 

Hope slung her backpack over her shoulder and used her free hand to haul Josie off of the floor. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her skin sparked where they touched. She tried her best not to show it when her spine gave a phantom jolt of electricity, unbidden. 

Josie blinked as Hope brought them both to eye-level again, parting her lips, almost in a daze. “Woah.” 

It looked as though she’d just been run over by a semi-truck. Hope, on the other hand, had barely felt the hit.

She opened her mouth to apologize again, but Josie beat her to it. 

“Hey,” she said, as if Hope hadn’t just bulldozed her over and Josie hadn’t just been splayed out all over the floor. 

Hope figured that the girl’s memory loss must have been due to shock. She raised her eyebrows but chose to move on from the awkward moment, tearing her eyes away from the faint blush on Josie’s face. 

“Hey,” she ended up saying back. 

Josie smiled weakly at her, something innocent and unknowing, but Hope could only find it reassuring. She let out a quiet sigh—of relief, of content, of everything good in the world. 

Suddenly, all her worries and anxiety with her awful dream earlier and her argument with her aunt faded away. 

Josie’s mere presence calmed her, washed over her, like the refreshing waves of an ocean, and Hope found herself drowning, drowning. _Drowning_. 

Only then did she notice that the brunette was wearing a black pair of shorts and a yellow, cropped shirt. Hmm. She looked cute.

A bit like a bee. A bit like sunshine. Hope adored everything about it. 

The thought made her smile, and she also noticed that, for the first time this morning, her heart rate had slowed down completely and her breathing had evened out and steadied. 

“I was just looking for you, actually,” Josie admitted, a little shyly. “Your friend...” 

She trailed off, but Hope was still caught underneath water. She didn’t bat an eye, only continuing to stare at the other girl intensely enough that she began to fidget. 

Hope realized what she was doing and glanced away, opening her mouth as Josie’s words finally registered. 

_What friend?_ She thought, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. 

“MG,” Josie supplied. Hope flushed. Right. She didn’t have any other friends. “He told me he hadn’t seen you come in yet, so I thought I’d wait outside, and then I ran into you here.” 

She gestured to the spot below them, panting slightly as if she was out of breath. Was it from falling over, Hope wondered, or was it from speaking so fast without an inhale or exhale in between? 

Josie never answered, for Hope never asked. 

“You were looking for me?” she implored softly instead—and damn it, she was breathless, too. 

She sounded reverent and surprised and hopeful and everything that might have been all-too embarrassing, but thank God, Josie decided to spare her and didn’t mention it. 

“I wanted to give you back your hoodie,” the brunette told her, lifting her school bag off of her shoulders and zipping it open. 

She rummaged through it in search of the piece of clothing, pausing when something seemed to catch her eye. 

“Is that a...steering wheel?” she asked, nose scrunched up as she cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at the offending object in Hope’s hand. 

She forgot she had been holding it. Shit. 

“Oh, yeah,” Hope confirmed, almost casually, before she remembered that holding a broken steering wheel in her hand was probably considered weird. 

She swallowed hard and desperately searched her surroundings for an excuse or reason as to why she had it in her possession. 

By the stairwell, she could just make out a boy in her Pre-Calc class holding a mess of wires and circuits. She thought she could _maybe_ remember him being in the Robotics club last year.

“Robotics,” Hope blurted, eyes wide when they met Josie’s. She rubbed at the back of her neck nervously. “I’m in the Robotics club.” 

Josie arched a delicate eyebrow. 

_ Great. She probably thinks I’m a nerd now.  _

“Really?” the brunette asked, her hands stilling in her backpack. How hard could it be to find a damn hoodie? 

Hope nodded dumbly. 

“You don’t seem like the type,” Josie continued, squinting her eyes in suspicion, and Hope started to laugh nervously. 

She was saved by the bell. 

“Yeah, well, uh, you should join,” she offered, walking backwards to her first period class to escape the mess she made. Thinking that she hadn’t been convincing enough, she turned around, calling out, “Meetings are every Thursday in Room 52 after school!” 

_That_ was a lie. She had no idea if Robotics club had even started meetings yet, and she definitely didn’t know the date, time, or room they were held in. 

Hope all but jogged away, flinging open the door to her first class and finding her seat in the back. 

It wasn’t until she sat down that she realized something. 

Josie had never given back her hoodie. 

—

About three hours later, Hope found herself in the cafeteria line with MG. It was pizza day for lunch, and she definitely didn’t want to miss out on a perfectly cheesy slice of grease. 

Besides—she was fucking _starving_. She hadn’t eaten breakfast, due to waking up late and then the thing that happened with Freya. Her stomach had been punishing her for it since first period. 

“Would you like a juice, dear?” the cafeteria lady asked, and Hope nodded as she slowly pulled herself out of her thoughts. 

The woman just stared at her, almost expectantly, and Hope finally snapped out of it when MG elbowed her in the side. 

“Oh,” she breathed. “Yes. Apple juice, please.” 

She and MG paid for their food and sat down at their usual table, and later Hope would be embarrassed, but for now she didn’t care as she purposely chose the seat facing across her friend in the hope that she might meet Josie’s gaze. 

By accident, of course. If their eyes did end up meeting, it would be pure coincidence. 

Hope brought her box of apple juice to her mouth, sucking on the straw as she stole a quick glance at the brunette. 

Josie was sitting at the table her sister normally sat at with her friends, picking at her salad as every single person around her tried to hold a conversation with the girl all at once. 

She looked...unhappy. 

“So, you had another nightmare?” MG spoke up, mouth full with pizza crust. Hope gave him a disgusted look, wondering how he had almost finished his food already. 

“So?” he asked, again, once clearing his mouth. 

She bit the inside of her cheek, nodding. “Yeah. It was the same wolf as the one in my last dream, but it wasn’t at the same time. I feel like...” 

Hope didn’t know what she felt like. She felt like the world was crumbling around her. She felt like she was constantly on edge. Constantly angry. But how could she put that into words without sounding like a monster? 

“I don’t know,” she decided, furiously ripping the crust off of her slice of pizza and throwing it onto MG’s tray. It landed with a dull _thud_ , like a piece of cardboard. “I’m just overreacting. It’s probably nothing.” 

Yes. Maybe Hope was just overreacting. Maybe she had been simply _imagining_ things. 

Was it possible, for her eyes to glow gold? Was it possible, to have fangs like knives in her mouth? Was it possible, to have nails so sharp they resembled claws? 

“What if it’s not?” MG asked, slurping down some type of berry juice. Raspberries? Blueberries? Strawberries? All three? Sometimes, the boy could be really gross. “What if...”

He lowered his voice, as if anyone could even hear them from their isolated table. “What if you’re a wolf or something?” 

“A wolf?” She laughed. That definitely wasn’t possible. “Maybe you should take a break from your comic books.” 

“I’m serious,” the boy said, sitting up to lean over. “It would explain why you can hear and do things not a lot of people can.” 

“No.” She shook her head resolutely. “There has to be some sort of logical explanation.” 

She was sure, now. “And I think my aunt knows what it is.” 

MG drew his eyebrows together. “What do you mean?” 

Taking a deep breath, she began to fill him in on the morning’s events, specifically what had transpired between her and Freya. She made sure to mention every small detail, from Freya finding the empty first-aid kit to wanting to take Hope to the hospital. 

By the end of it, MG’s eyes had gone wide as saucers. 

“Well...?” the boy asked, after a long moment of taking everything in. Hope tilted her head, confused. 

“What?” 

“Well, was your aunt right? _Are_ you on you drugs?” he finished, and she smacked him lightly with her tray. 

“Damn, I was just kidding,” he said, pouting slightly, but she felt some of the heaviness that had been leaking into her chest dissolve at his lighthearted tone. 

He sobered up not a minute later. “But, seriously, do you think she knows what’s wrong with you?” 

“It seemed like it.” Hope shrugged. She had no idea. “Whatever it is, I’m really dreading going home.” 

She paused. “Hey, do you think I can come over after school or something?” 

“Nope,” MG deadpanned with a smile, seeing her words for what they were: an excuse to avoid her aunt. “I’m not gonna have your aunt call my mom and get us both in trouble. She’s still mad at me for what happened Sunday.”

“ _Ugh_.” Hope groaned, putting her head in her hands. Her stomach had been in knots ever since she had left her house, all because she was afraid of facing her aunt’s wrath when she finally got home. “Freya is going to _kill_ me. I already have about a hundred missed calls and texts from her.” 

The words came out muffled, and she pulled her head up suddenly to make sure he could hear her for the next part. “You know, she tried to pull me out of school.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” she told MG, “in math, Dorian got a call from the office saying that I had to go home for a _dentist appointment_.” 

Her friend looked at her blankly. She sighed. 

“That was obviously Freya trying to...” She looked around with a distrustful expression on her face, and then lowered her voice, sounding a little crazy. “... _Trick_ me.” 

MG looked at her like she was a little crazy, too. He said, “You’re paranoid.” 

“No, no, listen.” She crumpled the juice box in her hand, only noticing when her fingers grew sticky. She wiped them on a napkin and resolved to wash her hands later. “I had one last week, which can only mean that it was a trap.” 

MG rolled his eyes but decided to humor her. “What did you do, then?” he asked. 

She frowned. Now the napkin was stuck to her fingers. When she ripped it off, it left little white patches on her skin. Yay. 

Eyes still on her hand, she muttered, “I just hid in the bathroom for the rest of his period and went to my next class like normal.” 

She flickered her gaze back up. “And guess what happened in my next class?” 

“Another dentist appointment?” 

She shook her head, smiling a little. “Nope. Family emergency.” 

—

Hope stared at the letter F in red, bold ink at the top of her history pop quiz, sneaking jealous glances at the innocent girl’s paper next to her, who had scored an A. 

_Bitch_. 

She grumbled underneath her breath, wondering how much this was going to bring down her grade. Would she even recover from this? An F on the _third_ day of school? Was this a sign of the things to come? 

The sound of everyone celebrating their good grades around her made Hope feel even worse. She couldn’t remember the last time she had received a failing mark in her entire life. 

Not since her family had died and her grades had briefly dropped in the weeks after. 

MG tapped on her shoulder from behind, leaning over in his own chair to compare their scores. Since Mr. Vardemus hadn’t yet assigned the class a seating chart, Hope and MG had decided to take advantage of that and sit next to each other in the meantime. 

“What’d you get?” he whispered, even though the rest of the class didn’t bother with lowering their voices and were all but yelling at each other. 

Hope folded the top corner of her paper and discreetly showed him the F, which made the boy drop his mouth open and fall back into his seat. 

“You got an F?” he gasped, alerting the ten students near them that Hope failed. Some of them gave her a few looks of pity. Hope shot MG a dirty look of her own before sighing.

  
  


“This is the worst day of my life,” Hope said dramatically, before pausing. “Wait. I take that back.” 

It was silent for a few seconds, before MG spoke, trying to console her. “It’s okay, it’s just one grade. It’s not the end of the world.” 

“Says the boy who cried his eyes out when he forgot to bring his math homework to school last year,” Hope clipped, unable to keep the snark and tinge of annoyance out of her voice. 

Her lips stretched into a scowl as she glared at the piece of paper still in her hand, which she imagined to be laughing and mocking her. She could barely refrain from crumpling it into a ball and chucking it as far as she could. 

“That was one time,” MG said. “ _One_ time. I bet...”

He trailed off as something appeared to distract him, and she followed his line of sight with a slight roll of her eyes and an endeared smile. The boy tended to be very absentminded at times. 

“Hey, look.” He pointed at Josie without a care in the world, which forced Hope to turn around in her seat and lower his finger herself. He pouted but wasn’t discouraged. “Did you see? Josie got an A.” 

Of course, Hope already knew that. She had checked the other girl’s paper as soon as she saw her own. 

Only because it wasn’t like Josie was trying very hard to hide the grade. There was also no secret to the small, tell-tale smile on her lips. 

“You should ask her to tutor you.” MG waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Like a study date? Hmm?” 

“No.” Was MG actually serious right now? “She’ll think I’m stupid.” 

“ _Dude_ ,” the boy deadpanned. “You failed a quiz on the Columbus Exchange. You _are_ stupid.” 

Hope scoffed. She didn’t reply as the rest of the class dissolved into silence, waiting for Mr. Vardemus to resume speaking. 

They knew that he wouldn’t say a word until he was certain that he had every single person’s attention. 

“I hope everyone is happy with the scores they received,” he began. Hope frowned, decidedly not happy. “For those of you who did not do so well—“ 

His eyes found Hope’s, as did every other head in the class. She gulped down the thick swallow of embarrassment trapped in her throat, ears burning at the very tips. It only got worse when she felt Josie’s gaze on her, too. 

“Let me be frank,” Mr. Vardemus corrected himself, “I mean to say, for the single person that failed this quiz, I will be holding a make-up exam on Friday. Come speak to me after class so we can discuss the technicalities.” 

Hope pretended that the lone person who had failed wasn’t her and nodded with the rest of the class, stilling dead in her seat when the overhead intercom came on. 

“Hi, stallions. Pardon the interruption, this is your principal Nick Mancer speaking.” Hmm. The usually jovial, extravagant man sounded unusually solemn and tired. Even the screech of the crackling microphone could not disguise the somber tone to his voice. “I have some rather disturbing news regarding one of our own this afternoon.” 

Although she had been still before, Hope was now as frozen as a stone statue. The hairs at the back of her neck prickled and stood on end, and she could have sworn that Principal Mancer’s voice was no longer coming from the speaker on the ceiling, but instead right by her ear. 

It became so silent that she could hear the skin of MG’s lips separate as he parted his mouth open, a foot behind her. 

“It has come to my attention by the local law enforcement that a student here has gone missing.” At the same time, the entire class inhaled sharply, all except for Hope Mikaelson, who had long since stopped breathing. A flash of emotion flickered across Mr. Vardemus’ stern features. 

“Since nine o’clock this morning,” Principal Mancer continued, “Dana Lilien has been officially declared a missing person.” 

A piece of pencil lead could have dropped and no one would have heard it.

“She was last seen Sunday night on her evening run, sometime between seven and eight pm. If you have any knowledge regarding her disappearance or any information as to her whereabouts, please contact the Mystic Falls Police Department. Their emergency and non-emergency lines can be found in your school emails.” 

Hope slowly turned around in her chair, meeting MG’s eyes dangerously. 

They were both wondering the same thing: how had no one realized that Dana was dead and that the body found in the woods was her own? 

“...A recent photo of Dana can also be found in your inboxes, provided by her mother, Vera Lilien. Please take the time to look over this photo, especially if you have never talked to Dana before. The sheriff’s station stresses the importance of doing so, as it is crucial to note that one in six missing children are found as a direct result of someone identifying them through a picture...” 

Much to Mr. Vardemus’ dismay, students began to pull their phones out and bring up their school emails. Hope leaned over MG’s desk when she noticed that he was furiously typing on his own phone. 

“What are you doing?” she whispered, but the boy didn’t even look up from his phone. 

“Letting my mom know that they can stop the search because Dana’s dead and Stefan killed her,” he answered casually, as if merely discussing the weather, and she tugged the phone out of his hands in a flash. 

“You can’t do that,” she hissed, keeping the object out of his reach as he tried swiping it back. “We don’t have any proof.” 

Fuck. 

Principal Mancer was still talking. 

“...Furthermore, until knowledge of her disappearance comes into light, the Mystic Falls Council has ordered a mandatory countywide curfew from 9pm to 5am. Students are asked to stay home during these specified hours, and any caught out on the streets will be fined and handled accordingly...” 

The room swiftly fell into groans and heavy sighs. Hope didn’t like the thought of a curfew either, but it wasn’t like she was about to throw a huge fit over it like some other people were doing. 

For example, down the hall, in another classroom, she could faintly hear a kid screaming his head off in a long tangent about his issues with the curfew as if Principal Mancer himself could hear him. 

“Once again, please check your emails for more information. A newsletter will be handed out in your second period classes tomorrow.” A small pause, where Hope heard shuffling like papers. “Thank you. Before I’m out of time, I would just like to urge everyone not to panic or be alarmed. We _will_ get through this. Remember that we have several support counselors out on campus if you should so need them—“ 

The bell rang. 

“Have a good day!” _Uh_. What? 

Then, the intercom switched off, and all the students shot up and out of their seats before Mr. Vardemus could argue differently. 

Hope was not so fast, the reminder that she needed to talk to him about making up the quiz keeping her far behind everyone else. She stayed in her seat, watching as all her other classmates disappeared. 

MG smiled at her and lingered by the doorway, but left all the same. She wondered if he knew that she still had his phone. 

Hope packed up her stuff and approached Mr. Vardemus’ desk slowly, hoping that this would be quick and efficient. She had a lacrosse practice to get to, anyway. 

“Miss Mikaelson, what do you have to say for yourself?” Mr. Vardemus leaned against his desk with a single brow raised. Hope briefly wondered if he had gotten them waxed or threaded. Whatever. He had definitely gotten them _something’d_. She was pretty sure his eyebrows were nicer than her own. 

Hope glanced back to the desks behind her, taking the second he couldn’t see her to roll her eyes. 

“So, Friday?” She tried for a smile, but it came out as a grimace, and in all likelihood, the expression probably scared the man. He pursed his lips in contemplation, placing a hand under his chin. 

“I will see you that day after school,” he finally decided, after a long moment. Hope nodded and went to walk away when she realized that she had practice after school. 

“Actually,” she said, “I have lacrosse after school. Can I come in during lunch or something?” 

“Even better.” His accent was heavier than she had ever heard it before as he grinned, which was a slightly off-putting sight with his small teeth and large mouth. “Please do not make a habit of this, Miss Mikaelson.” 

She nodded and politely thanked him, leaving as quickly as she had stayed. When she went to open the door to exit the classroom, she caught MG’s signature hair through the window. He was talking to...

Josie? 

“You see, Hope is a little shy, so that’s why I’mhere asking you—“ 

“MG?” Hope frowned, but the boy only perked up and smiled widely once he saw her. 

“ _Hey_ , Hope,” he said, leaning against the wall coolly like he hadn’t just went behind her back. She didn’t respond, blatantly staring at Josie as she tried to figure out what the two of them had been talking about. “Jo was just telling me that she wouldn’t mind tutoring you at all.” 

“Yeah,” Josie agreed, quirking up both corners of her lips almost shyly. Hope had no choice but to flicker her eyes down, and she noticed that the other girl’s mouth was a delectable pink. Her cheeks were pink, too. Damn, this girl blushed a lot. “I have something today, but does tomorrow sound good?” 

Hope gulped thickly and nodded, looking around for MG so she could properly strangle him. Come to find out, he had already vacated the premises. 

_Asshat_. 

“That sounds great,” she told Josie, feeling warm in the area where her heart should be. She felt warm everywhere, actually. She distantly thought that she might be sweating. Hopefully not. 

“My place or yours?” Hope added, before instantly regretting it. God. Should she have offered the library or something public? Was that too fast too soon? What if Josie thought she was some kind of serial killer? 

Yet, the brunette acted like nothing was wrong. She just laughed. 

“Definitely yours,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, fingers gripping at her elbows like she was cold. “My house is kind of crazy right now. Here—“ 

She pulled out her phone, thought better of it, and then held her hand out. “Can I see your phone?” 

Hope blanked. “Um...” 

“So you can text me your address?” Josie added, giggling a little. A blush rose from Hope’s neck. She could have sworn she felt the heat crawling up her throat. 

“Right, right.” Hope almost palmed her forehead in frustration at herself, grabbing her phone out of her back pocket and wordlessly handing it over to Josie. The girl seemed to type something on it—probably putting in her phone number—before giving it back. 

When Hope looked down to take the phone, she realized that she had accidentally given Josie MG’s phone instead of her own. Fuck. Should she say something or keep her mouth shut?

“I have to catch up with Lizzie.” Josie pointed behind her without any real direction. She was already walking away before Hope could say something. “Text me?” 

The auburn-haired girl nodded and watched quietly as Josie left, looking down at MG’s phone once she was sure Josie couldn’t see her. 

She found that the boy didn’t have a password set so she opened it up with a single swipe, immediately looking for the contact Josie had made for herself. She let out a deep sigh when she saw that MG had set his home screen to a picture of Waluigi from Mario Kart.   
  


  
Hopefully Josie hadn’t seen that. 

If so, Hope could already feel herself blushing in humiliation. Ignoring Waluigi, Hope scrolled down to Josie’s contact. 

It was simple, really. Just Josie’s name—but there was also a bright, yellow heart emoji that the brunette had added next to it. 

Great. 

The one time Hope had gotten a cute girl’s number and it wasn’t even with her own phone. 

—

Hope pulled up to her house carefully, doing her best to turn inside the driveway without half of the steering wheel, which was sitting in the passenger seat with a belt slung over it like an actual human being. 

Lacrosse practice had been absolutely _awful_. 

Sebastian spent the entire time making thinly-veiled threats about Hope’s head injury the previous day, while Coach Dorian kept treating her like a comatose patient. 

The only person who had treated her like normal was MG and Jed, who she had learned was not only the goalie, but also the co-captain. 

Hope wondered why everyone acted like Sebastian was the sole leader of the team, but she was pretty sure it had something to due with him being a pretentious asshole. 

A beeping noise sounded from Hope’s lap, and she turned off the car as she picked up her phone from where it had been laying on top of her thighs. 

It was a message from MG.

** Josie said she’ll be at your house at 5 tomorrow.  **

Hope sent back:

** Thanks.  **

Another message. 

** She just sent you a foot emoji. What does that mean?  **

Hope blushed and sucked in a deep breath. 

She typed out:

** Nothing. Leave her on read.  **

Thankfully, MG had been quite understanding with the whole phone mix-up, and he hadn’t teased her about it much, except for rolling around and laughing on the floor of the locker room for about a minute or two. 

Hope silenced her phone and opened her car door, staring up at her house with a combination of dread and apprehension. She had been distracting herself from this moment—distancing herself from the reality of it—the entire day, and now she could only regret it. 

She wished that she had prepared herself enough for her aunt’s wrath, but deep down Hope knew that whatever came next wouldn’t compare to any of the scenarios she might have thought up. 

With a sigh, she locked her car and walked the small path up to the door. She took her time unlocking it, pushing the door open slowly enough to give her ears time to zero in on every sound in the house. 

A faucet was running somewhere. Not running as much as dripping, like someone had forgotten to switch it off all the way. There was a pot of water boiling, too, somewhere close, and Hope guessed that it was in the kitchen. Freya was probably making tea or something. 

Good. That would be good for her nerves. 

She allowed her eyes to flutter closed as she heard footsteps. They were light, most definitely her aunt’s, but there was another pair there, too, one that wasn’t completely familiar. 

Maybe Freya brought home a friend from the hospital? 

Hope closed the door behind her and instantly froze, heart stuttering wildly in her throat as her eyes fell on Stefan Salvatore, sitting in her kitchen as if he owned the damn place. 

He was delicately sipping his tea out of Hope’s favorite green mug, his pinky in the air as if he was the _fucking_ Queen of England or something. 

Freya was standing across from him, lowering the heat on the stove without a care. 

Hope couldn’t quite help herself, and she let out a snarl that caused both Stefan and Freya’s heads to spin towards her. 

Stefan took one look at her and immediately looked away, almost like he was bored and had long since seen her coming. It confused and infuriated Hope all at once and she stepped forward, her chest rumbling with another growl. 

Fuck.

Since when she did growl at people like she was an animal? 

“What the hell are you doing here?” she bit out, dropping her bag to the floor with a snap of her teeth. Stefan furrowed his eyebrows intensely and looked to Hope’s aunt. 

“Hope, come sit down,” Freya said calmly, a warning lilt to her voice as she turned the heat off completely. She came closer, closer to Hope, closer to Stefan—closer to a fucking _murderer_. 

“No, stay away from him!” Hope said, standing in front of her aunt protectively. Red curled at the edges of her vision and sent her spiraling with rage. What was Freya thinking? Inviting a killer into their house? Their _home_? 

Had Dana’s death been in vain? Had her family’s—

“Hope, calm down. It’s okay...”

“No, no, it’s not,” she cut Freya off, turning back to Stefan. She didn’t know why the hell he was here. She didn’t care for an explanation either. She just wanted him gone. “Get out.” 

Stefan placed the mug down, his eyes still on hers, as if he was afraid any sudden movement might turn her into a rabid animal. Finally, he glanced to Freya. “Maybe I should go.” 

His voice sounded rough and soft all at once, like the tea he had been drinking had scorched his throat and soothed the burn all at once. Hope hated it. 

She hated everything about him. 

“No. I need you to help me tell her. Listen, Hope—“ Freya lowered her voice, placing a hand on Hope’s shoulder. 

Hope hated that, too. 

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, suddenly, out of nowhere, hot and cold and too hot and too fucking cold. 

At the same time, Stefan said, “Don’t touch her.” 

Freya listened and stepped back, but Hope could tell that she had hurt her. It made Hope feel a little bad, but a larger part of her was filled with a sick, crazed sort of satisfaction from it. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” she apologized, but she kept her eyes on Stefan. For his part, Stefan kept his eyes on her. 

Hope knew where the faucet she had heard when she came in was located now. It was in the upstair’s bathroom, dripping, dripping, dripping, and Hope got the sudden urge to stop it lest her ears bleed out. 

She clamped her hands over them and saw gold overwhelm the corners of her irises, painting everything in her line of sight sunshine-yellow. It briefly reminded Hope of the emoji Josie had used for her contact name, and she calmed down enough to forget about the faucet dripping. 

She couldn’t forget about Stefan, though.

Freya had absolutely no idea who he was. Clearly no idea at all. 

“It’s not safe for you right now,” the man told Freya, looking away from Hope for the first time. “The full moon’s in a couple of days and she doesn’t know how to control herself yet. You should go upstairs and let me talk her down.” 

Talk her down? As if she was some criminal holding hostages? Why were they acting like this? Like Hope was _stupid_ or something? 

And what the hell did the fucking moon have to do with anything? Stefan was acting as if it was some sentient, animate being. 

“It’s not safe?” Hope laughed humorlessly, sharp breaths coming in between like shards of glass. “Yeah, it isn’t. It won’t be until you leave.” 

Stefan didn’t move an inch. 

“I said _get out_.” 

Hope was so dead-set on him that she hadn’t even noticed that Freya had left the room and was now climbing the stairs. 

“Let me explain myself.” Stefan stood up and brought his hands above his head in surrender. Hope could still smell traces of Dana on him. It made her absolutely sick to her stomach. 

“I know what you’re going through,” he told her, after a long enough pause that Hope’s anger began to boil into her chest like a thick mist. 

With his words, it only made everything worse, and when Hope opened her mouth to speak, she could have sworn steam left her lips. 

“You don’t know anything,” she said, jaw set dangerously. Her eyes flashed yellow for several long seconds, before the color lingered and stayed for good. 

His eyes met her own, glowing blue like crystals. It reminded her of something, but she couldn’t think clearly enough right now to remember exactly what. 

“I know that weird things have been happening to you. Things you can’t explain. Things your friend MG can’t explain, either. I also know that you’re feeling irrationally angry.” Stefan waited, maybe for her to nod or shake her head, but she did no such thing. For a brief moment, her eyes left his and focused on a distant spot past his shoulder. 

He was right, but she wouldn’t let him know. She gritted her teeth and her jaw visibly ticked. 

Stefan only continued. “I know that you feel like you want to rip my throat out right now. Even though you know I don’t deserve it.” 

No. Stefan deserved _everything_. He had killed Dana, for God’s sake. Hope couldn’t prove it, but she knew it. Surely, she _knew_ it. Right? 

“And...” The man paused, smiling sadly. “I know that you thought about ripping your aunt’s throat out, too, just a few moments ago. But you won’t ever admit that to yourself, because that would be admitting that something is wrong, and you can’t do that. Can you?” 

Hope swallowed thickly. 

No.

She couldn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter should clear everything up :) thanks for sticking with me haha


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i find this chapter kind of boring, so sorry :(

“Okay,” Hope said, crossing her arms to make herself appear more confident than she felt. It only made her look defensive, and Stefan knew it just as much as she did. “Tell me, then, what’s happening to me?” 

The man across from her sat back down, and stirred the liquid in his mug. “Tea?” he asked casually, gesturing to the pot on the stove. 

Hope said nothing nor moved an inch, only staring at him in disbelief. How could one drink tea at a time like this? 

Stefan didn’t seem to think anything was wrong with his question. He simply sat back in his chair and sipped at the rim of his—Hope’s—mug while he waited for her to answer. 

“No?” He sighed. Amusement danced across his irises as she watched the way he placed the mug back on the table. Inside, Hope was steaming. She couldn’t believe that Freya had given _him_ her favorite mug. The nerve of that woman. 

“Fine,” Stefan muttered, almost to himself. “You should sit. Try to relax.” 

Hope wanted to. She wanted to feel safe in her own home, but it seemed nearly impossible with a stranger—a _murderer_ —only a couple of feet away. 

“No,” she said. Her eyes narrowed into his. “Tell me what I want to know or I’m calling the cops.” 

A corner of his lips quirked up. He looked a little like a psychopath. 

A few seconds passed. Hope felt as though they were hours, and she waited in agony of what Stefan would say next. Just when he opened his mouth, and just when she thought he would finally speak, he simply closed it. A few more seconds passed. 

At last, he deadpanned, “You’re a werewolf.” 

Hope didn’t bat an eyelash and simply looked at him, unimpressed. She slowly reached for her phone in her pocket. Still keeping eye-contact with him, she dialed 911 and put it on speakerphone. 

“ _Nine-one-one_ ,” the voice on the other line droned in a monotone voice. Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose. “ _What is your emergency?_ ” 

If he wanted to play games and joke around, Hope could, too. 

“Hi,” Hope said, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper. Still, she sounded eerily calm. On the other side of the line, the operator frowned. “I would like to report a break-in. There’s an intruder in my house. He’s downstairs. Please help. The address is—“ 

Stefan’s eyes glinted blue and he was up and out of his seat before Hope could blink, blurring over to her in a supernatural flash and clamping a single, calloused hand against her mouth to cut off her words. He used his other hand to take the phone away from her. 

She struggled against him and tried to scream, but his grip was too tight and nothing came out. Her eyes locked onto his as he turned the call off the speakerphone and outstretched his arm, in order to distance the phone and mute their words. 

“I’m telling the truth. Is this proof enough?” he hissed, eyes still glowing. Hope nodded, because she wasn’t a complete idiot and didn’t feel like playing dumb today. Stefan released her, but he didn’t hand the phone back. 

“Now, you’re going to say it was just a prank call and hang up, got it?” She nodded, taking the phone from him silently. 

“ _Hello_?” the operator called into the silence, and then repeated the word three more times. Hope could hardly hear anything over the harsh pounding of her heart resounding in her ears. 

“Hi,” she said, when she finally caught her breath and her racing heart calmed down. Stefan gave her a meaningful glance. “Sorry. This is a prank. Bye.” 

The dial tone sounded as she hung up, and she carefully placed her phone back into her pocket, aware that Stefan was watching her the entire time. 

“That was stupid,” he told her. “I thought you were smarter than that.” 

Hope bristled, eyebrows furrowing and noseflaring. She chose to ignore the comment for now. “What the hell was that?” 

She was clearly referring to the fact that he had been able to leap over the table and reach her in a second or two. Stefan lifted his shoulders with a small shrug. 

“Are you...?” she continued, but couldn’t bring herself to finish her sentence. She didn’t need to. 

“Yes,” he said, with an air of calmness that annoyed her. That bothered her. She wanted him to be just as on edge as she was, just as anxious. God, she felt like her skin was being scraped raw. She needed him to feel like it, too. “I’m just like you. A werewolf.” 

A beat passed. 

“A werewolf?” Hope almost whimpered. It seemed like a dream. Like a nightmare. Surely, werewolves only existed in movies and books. Her mind swarmed with the implications. “How is that possible?” 

“You were bitten by an alpha,” Stefan explained. “We don’t know where he came from, or who he is. Your aunt and I have been trying to figure out why he targeted you specifically, but we haven’t been able to come up with anything that makes sense.” 

“An alpha?” 

What the fuck did that mean? 

“An alpha is a leader of a pack. A pack is a group of wolves. Almost...almost like family.” A _pack_? Like she was a dog or something? Stefan bit the inside of his cheek, and hesitated. She noticed. “Have you been having weird dreams lately?” 

Hope bit the inside of her cheek, too. “How did you know?” 

“That’s your alpha calling on you,” Stefan told her. “He’s trying to build a pack, and that starts with you...” 

“He doesn’t know that you’re already in one,” he added in a whisper, more for himself than for Hope. It was too softly spoken for her to hear, and she missed it completely. 

“He thinks that he gave you a gift by turning you, and now he’s trying to collect on it. Until we know who he is, you have to resist. If not, he might become powerful enough to take away your free will, and then you will do anything he says. Do you understand?” 

But Hope didn’t. All of this information was flying at her too fast to handle, and she couldn’t keep up. Fuck. 

She inwardly swore. Why her? Why couldn’t that bastard have chosen someone else? 

“Why?” she asked. Stefan tilted his head in confusion. What was so confusing? She swore inwardly again, and then added, “Why _me_?” 

“Like I said, we don’t know.” She glared at him. So many questions, not enough answers. 

“What _do_ you know, then?” 

Stefan sent her a frustrated look. Maybe her attitude was grating on his nerves, maybe he thought she was rude, but Hope just wanted _answers_. 

“The alpha isn’t strong enough to command you right now. That’s probably why he bit you in the first place. Betas give a pack strength. Power.” 

It was starting to sound like he was just listing the Greek alphabet. 

“Betas?” 

He nodded. 

“That’s what you are,” he said. “A beta. It’s why your eyes are yellow and why your alpha’s are red. A beta is the most common type of werewolf—“ 

“What are you?” Hope interrupted, frowning. Stefan leaned away, looking taken aback, like he hadn’t quite expected her to ask that. She found it annoying. 

The man suddenly glanced down to his feet, broad shoulders shrinking in on himself. He darted his eyes around before they settled back onto Hope’s. “A beta.”

Hope didn’t miss a beat. 

“But your eyes are blue,” she said, puzzled. She didn’t understand. If he was a beta, wouldn’t his eyes be yellow like hers? “What does that mean?” 

Stefan’s eyes glowed again and he looked over her shoulder at the wall, growing quiet. Something like sadness flashed in those bright, blue orbs once, twice, and then it was gone. 

“What does that mean?” she repeated, thinking that maybe he just hadn’t heard her or something. But he had, and again he ignored her just the same as he had the first time she asked. 

Stefan seemed not to be aware of his surroundings at all. His bushy brows were knitted together like he was thinking hard, but his gaze was blank and there was a faraway look hidden inside his dark eyes. 

He looked numb to the world and everything in it. Like he was trapped inside of himself, like he had frozen over along with time. Both stood still as stone. Hope almost took a hold of his shoulders to shake him out of it. Almost. She didn’t. 

When Stefan finally snapped out of his reverie, Hope wondered if he even realized what had happened. 

“I...” He trailed off, voice thick and rough like there was a lump in his throat. His throat bobbed as he searched for the right words, before he decided on, “Nothing.” 

“It means nothing,” he said again, but this time his voice was even and did not waver once. Still, Hope didn’t believe him one bit, but she didn’t try to question him again. 

“Back to what I was saying,” Stefan continued, like nothing had happened. Hope raised her eyebrows at that. “Not only are you now a wolf, but you’re also a danger, to yourself and others.” 

She clenched her fists into tight balls of anger, and she didn’t know it then, but that action had proved him right. But now, in the present, she could only be offended. 

_That wasn’t true at all_ , she thought. So, what, she had been a little close to losing it in front of her aunt. But she was fine, now. She was doing great. She didn’t even feel like strangling Stefan anymore. 

“Later,” he told her, “it won’t be as bad. You’ll have new abilities, and over time, you’ll learn how to control them. For now, the anger is the worst part and the one you’ll struggle with the most. I was born into this, so it’s easy for me. For you, you’re not going to be able to handle it. At least, not right away. That’s why Freya called me. I’m going to teach you how to control yourself around others. You can’t be throwing temper tantrums like you did a few minutes ago.” 

“How does Freya know?” Hope wondered out loud, pointedly ignoring the last part. “Is she a werewolf, too?” 

She couldn’t imagine her aunt as a werewolf. But then again, she had never imagined herself to be one. She tried to picture Freya with glowing yellow eyes and a mouth full of fangs, but she couldn’t. 

Stefan shook his head. “No, she’s not, but that’s not my story to tell.” 

She scowled. The man had a lot to say, but nothing she truly wanted to hear. Stefan didn’t seem to notice her frustration, and he started to move on. 

“You need to be able to...” His words fell away, pausing out of nowhere. 

He tilted his head to the side as if listening to a sound or noise Hope couldn’t hear. Until, she could. Light footsteps from upstairs began to close in on them. 

“There’s your aunt, now,” Stefan said. “She’s coming downstairs.” 

He fixed her with a stern look. “Do you think you can control yourself enough to not lash out at her, or should I send her back up?” 

Hope felt that same twinge of indignation from earlier, but she clamped down on it before it could rise to the surface. Stefan continued to stare at her. 

“I’ll be fine,” she mumbled, humiliated. She still couldn’t believe she had snapped at her aunt like that a few minutes ago, especially when the woman didn’t deserve it. 

Freya appeared in the kitchen seconds later. Both werewolves turned to look at her come in. 

“I’m sorry,” the blonde apologized. Her words came quick and nervous, but she was determined above all else. “I know you told me to stay away, but I wanted to be here for my niece. It’s not fair for me to hide away upstairs when she doesn’t get to—“ 

“You can stay,” Stefan interrupted her babbling. “Hope will behave herself.” 

He shot the girl a pointed look. “Isn’t that right, _Hope_?” 

“ _Hmm_ ,” Hope hummed, with a tight-lipped smile she put on for Freya. The urge to strangle Stefan came back full-force. She managed to keep the red out of her vision just enough that she could see straight. 

“Where are you at?” Freya asked, looking to Stefan. 

“I was just about to tell her about the full moon,” he said, as if Hope wasn’t in the room, and as if Freya and him had outlined some kind of werewolf informational manual before this. 

“Yeah?” Hope spoke up. Freya and Stefan whirled their heads at her like they had forgotten she was with them. 

“Oh, right.” Stefan winced apologetically, looking ashamed of himself. “About once a month, the moon rises enough to be completely illuminated by the sun. For normal humans, the full moon might mean their sleep gets disrupted. For us, our whole night gets disrupted. For several hours on end, we are tormented by heightened aggression and bloodlust...” 

Hope swallowed thickly. Both adults pretended not to hear it.

“This month, the full moon lies on a Saturday,” he continued. “ _This_ Saturday. Starting then, things will be different. That’s when you’ll shift for the first time.” 

“What do you mean shift?” A wrinkle formed in the space between Hope’s eyebrows. “Like the wolves in _Twilight_?”

Freya snickered and said, “Exactly.” 

At the same time, Stefan rolled his eyes and said, “Of course not.” 

The two shared a look before Stefan smirked and glanced back to Hope. “I’ll show you what it looks like before Saturday, but it probably won’t be what you’re expecting. There are two main forms a wolf can change into. Most wolves can’t fully shift into their true wolf form, but a more subdued version instead. It’s called a partially-lupine form.” 

“It’s not pretty,” he admitted, after a moment. Hope pouted. A part of her had been looking forward to becoming a cute, fluffy wolf, but that was obviously not happening. “That’s why I’m going to teach you how to hide it and resist the compulsion to change. When you learn how to control yourself, you’ll be able to shift on command and of your own accord. I have enough experience that I don’t have to shift on the full moon if I don’t want to.”  


She almost sighed, before he added, “Don’t feel relieved, yet, though. It took me a long time.” 

Freya scoffed and muttered underneath her breath, “That’s an understatement.” 

Stefan frowned deeply and glanced off to the blonde, but he was still talking to Hope. “The point is, I’m in control of myself, now.” 

“Sure you are, Ripper.” Freya laughed. It gave Hope pause. The two of them kept acting like they had known each other for a long time, like they were buddies or something. She felt...left out. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it stayed, just out of reach and just beneath her skin all at once.

Stefan sent Hope’s aunt a withering look, and raised his eyebrows in good humor. “Would you trust me to help your niece if I still couldn’t keep my bloodlust in check after all this time?” 

Freya smiled. 

“Why are you even helping me?” Hope cut in, still unable to trust this man herself. Why couldn’t it just be Freya? It seemed Freya knew enough about this to help Hope, so why was Stefan’s presence necessary? 

“I...” Stefan started, but he trailed off with reluctance. His eyes darted to Freya’s, as if asking for her permission to continue. She dipped her head down in a single nod. 

“I knew your family, Hope,” he finished. Hope’s eyes went wide with surprise, and her lips parted with a sharp intake of breath. She couldn’t make sense of the words, no matter how many times she replayed them in her head. 

“What, what do you mean?” she stammered out. 

Stefan’s eyes went to Freya’s again, and she nodded once more. Hope glanced between them in confusion. What was she missing? There was clearly something—clearly something _right in front of her_ —but the more she looked, the more it evaded her. 

“I was a part of their pack,” Stefan said, at last. A long moment of silence passed, where Hope went rigid and shook all the same. She couldn’t seem to process the information, or perhaps she knew exactly what it implied and was afraid to find out more. 

“Their pack?” Her mouth ran dry. “But that would mean...” 

She slowly raised her eyes to look at Freya, who was standing still with a small, sad smile on her face. Her eyes were clouded over with much of the same. 

“Your parents were werewolves, Hope.” 

Hope watched Freya’s lips form the words, but they fell on deaf ears. A bolt of lightning could have struck nearby and she wouldn’t have heard it, either. 

“I-I don’t understand,” she stuttered, feeling lightheaded. Hope shook her head vehemently in denial, chest growing tight. It felt like her heart was imploding in on itself. She was sure she might go into cardiac arrest any second. 

The girl placed a steadying hand on her chest, and when she looked down at it, she saw that her nails had sharpened into claws. They were long and yellow and filthy, and she felt bile rise in her throat. 

“Listen to me, Hope.” Stefan was suddenly right in front of her. She saw him through a yellow haze. “You need to calm down. You need to breathe.” 

But she couldn’t. All she could focus on was the fact that her entire life had been a lie. All she could focus on were the ugly-ass nails protruding from her hands, the gold leaking into her vision and blurring with red. Then, she saw blue. 

“Here.” Stefan grabbed her clawed hand from her chest and put it on his own, so that she could feel his chest rise and fall with every inhale and exhale. “Breathe. Breathe with _me_.” 

“One.” He inhaled nice and slow and held it in his lungs for four more seconds. On five, they exhaled together. To Hope, it felt like every thought, emotion, and feeling left her body all at once. She shuddered with the force of it. Stefan started a new count and this time they went up to ten. 

Each and every inhale brought his scent into her nose. He still smelled like Dana, but this close, with him an inch away from her, there was something new about him, too. Different. It wasn’t bad. It was incredibly familiar and on some level she even recognized it, but Hope got the feeling she had never smelled it before. 

They repeated this until her claws retracted and her yellow eyes fell back to blue. Her heart rate and breathing slowed down and evened out, and her brain caught up. 

Her parents were werewolves. Did that mean that her whole family was...? 

“Better?” Stefan asked. She didn’t nod to confirm nor shake her head to deny. “When you let your heart rate and breathing pick up like that, your wolf will try to take advantage of it and you will lose control. That’s why it’s important that you learn how to slow it down.” 

Hope ignored him. It sounded like common sense. While she was grateful for his kindness and understanding, she couldn’t keep her eyes off of her aunt Freya. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, tone accusing. She felt betrayed. She felt like her whole world had shattered and nothing was what it seemed. She felt like she couldn’t trust anything at all. 

“It’s a long story,” Freya claimed, as if—as if they didn’t have the fucking time. Hope nearly rolled her eyes, but she managed to bite her tongue before she might say something petty. “I could never find the right way to say it, never the right words. Over time, I convinced myself it would do more harm than good and that there was no point. That you were better off not knowing.” 

Hope’s throat bobbed. Freya’s eyes watered. Both were seconds away from crying.

“How could you?” 

Freya opened her mouth, but Stefan beat her to it. He stepped in front of the woman protectively. “Your anger is misplaced, Hope. This isn’t—” 

“Don’t tell me what I feel,” Hope cut him off with a snarl. She wanted his name out of his mouth. She wanted him to stop looking at her like she was a rabid, cornered animal. “What are you even doing here? I don’t care that you knew my family. It means nothing to me.” 

Hurt flickered clear across Stefan’s face, but just for a second. Then, he steeled his gaze. 

“Well, it does to _me_ ,” he told her, voice low but soft. “Your father took my brother and I in when our family’s pack was decimated. He treated Damon and I as if we were his own blood. Even when the incident happened and Damon was admitted into the hospital. He still loved us like family. I will never forget the kindness—the mercy—he showed me. This is the least I can do. If anything, I owe him _this_.” 

Hope didn’t know what to say to that. Suddenly, she yearned for another connection to her parent’s, for another person who knew them like she did. Another part of her longed for an explanation as to what had happened to Damon Salvatore. She knew he had been scarred long before all of Hope’s family died. 

“Look, Hope,” Freya added, just as softly as Stefan, but it worked better to calm the girl down. “Your parents never wanted you to know for a reason. I’ll explain the best I can, but...” 

She trailed off, before she began to dart her eyes around frantically. 

“I think you need to sit down for this. Please?” She pulled out a chair from the table. Stefan’s own was still laying down on the floor from when he had stood up and knocked it down in his haste. Freya looked pointedly at both him and Hope. “Can we all just _sit down_?” 

The words were innocent enough but Hope knew the truth. Her aunt was desperate and stalling, trying to put off the inevitable conversation.

Hope listened and sat down, but not until Stefan and her aunt did. She lowered herself slowly in her chair, fingers curling around the edge of the table. 

“Many, many years ago,” Freya started after a few seconds of hesitance and silence, “your mother and father decided that they would produce a heir for the pack, just in case anything were to happen to them, in the hopes that when you grew up, you would take your rightful place as alpha from Klaus.” 

As alpha? Hope couldn’t imagine herself commanding any pack. At the same time, she wondered why she was only a beta if all her family members had died. Did that make Stefan the alpha? But his eyes were blue. Not red. 

God. This was all so confusing. 

“They had originally planned to tell you as soon as you were old enough, but your werewolf gene never activated on its own at birth like it was supposed to.” At that, Hope raised her eyebrows. “It’s rare, but sometimes children don’t inherit the werewolf gene from their parents and it stays dormant.” 

More quietly, Freya added, “Like it did with me.” 

Hope couldn’t tell if she sounded angry or not about it. There was definitely something unsettling there, but she couldn’t make it out enough to be sure. 

“When your parents realized what happened,” her aunt continued, “they decided to keep your history a secret and hide that part of them away from you.” 

Hope frowned. “Why?” 

Freya shut her eyes and sighed. Maybe she thought her niece wouldn’t ask questions, or maybe she thought this would have been easier. She thought wrong. 

“You have to understand,” she said, almost begging. “The Mikaelson Pack is centuries-old and powerful, but it used to be well-known for neither. Instead, many other packs heard the name and were afraid of it. The Mikaelson pack was not something to be revered, but feared.” 

That didn’t make sense. Hope’s parents had always been amazing to her. How could they be a part of something that others were scared of? It wasn’t fathomable. Not to Hope.

“Your parents saw a new future for you.” She smiled, a little nostalgically. A distant look reached her eyes. When Hope glanced at Stefan, she saw that he was staring into the wood of the table blankly. He was just as gone as her aunt. “We all did.” 

“You were our _Hope_.” She laughed wetly. It made a lump form in Hope’s throat, and she struggled against it to no avail. “A chance for our family to be good again. All we wanted was for you to live a normal, human life, so we tried our best to protect you from everything else that might have gotten in the way.” 

As Freya started to conclude the story, Hope realized that she was crying. She didn’t even know until a tear dripped down her face and fell onto her lap, and then she was suddenly all too aware of it. All too aware of the way her eyes stung, the way her throat was closing up, and the way a headache was hammering away at her skull. 

“When that asshat bit you, we realized that all of our efforts were in vain.” Freya sighed. “There was a chance you would die and the bite wouldn’t take, but since your werewolf gene remained intact, whatever had been suppressing it and causing it to remain dormant, also allowed it to be expressed again. For humans, it’s about an eighty-twenty chance to live or die. With your history, your odds were much better. I would say ninety-nine to one. It was almost a given for you.” 

Hope didn’t understand half of what her aunt said but nodded anyways. The numbers and science, while it might have been simple, became jumbled in her tired brain and she was loathe to think about it. 

The night she was bitten came back to her, and she thought about _that_ instead. With a start, she realized that that night had only been Sunday. 

_Sunday_. Just four days ago. 

God, she thought, it felt like weeks had passed since then. At least, she felt like she had aged years in the time from that night to now. 

“I’ll admit,” Freya finished. “This is never what I wanted for you, but I’m so happy you survived and that you’re still here. Here with _me_.” 

Hope tried to smile, but her mind was still on Sunday night. Flashes came to her of dirt and leaves, of flashlights and red eyes, of a dead girl’s amputated body. 

“But Dana isn’t,” she spoke softly. With all this talking, she almost forgot there was a murderer sitting next to her across the table. “Dana from school. I saw her. She’s...she’s dead.” 

She glanced up at Stefan, then her gaze hardened. “I can smell her all over you.” She controlled herself enough to keep her eyes from flashing yellow. “What did you do to her?” 

“I didn’t kill her,” Stefan was quick to say, “if that’s what you think.”

His eyes went to Freya’s, and Hope imagined that he was willing her to believe him. She couldn’t be further away from the truth. “I was asked to take care of her body by the council. Vera agreed that—“

Wait. Vera.

Vera, as in, Vera _Lilien_? 

“Dana’s mom?” Hope perked up, eyebrows knitted in confusion. That didn’t make sense at all. Why would Dana’s mom help ask Stefan to hide her body? 

She didn’t give the man time to answer. 

“Hold on.” Hope paused. “If she knows that her daughter is dead, then why did she report her as a missing person?” 

“To keep up appearances,” Stefan simply said. “Like I was about to say, she had me bury her daughter herself.” 

Hope waited for him to add something, to literally say anything else, but he didn’t. 

What the hell? Did he not he think he should explain himself after telling her that? She wanted to snap her fingers in front of his face and pull him out of it, she wanted to slap him across his cheek and yell at him to care. 

He was talking as if he was merely having a conversation about the weather. It unnerved Hope. 

“Why?” she asked, voice urgent where his was not. “That doesn’t make any sense.” 

Stefan clasped his hands together on the table. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you know what the Founder’s Council is?” 

After a moment, Hope nodded. Her tears dried out. She felt embarrassed for having cried in front of a stranger. Even if he was part of her pack, or whatever that meant. 

“Yeah...” She cocked her head to the side curiously. “Don’t they organize town events and pass laws or whatever?” 

“That’s their official responsibility. Or, at least, on paper.” He leaned in so she could hear him, but didn’t lower or raise his voice. 

“Unofffically,” he said, “it was created to hide the existence of supernatural beings from the town—to protect Mystic Falls from werewolves. If the law enforcement figured out that Dana was killed by a werewolf, it would raise a lot of questions. I was ordered to hide the evidence of how she really died, and I did that by moving the half of her body I could find and burying her.” 

Hope sputtered over her words, mouth opening and closing again and again. All of her life, she assumed that the Founder’s Council was uninteresting and full of a bunch of old-ass, boring white people. She wanted nothing more than to believe Stefan, but she wasn’t stupid. 

“How did she die, then?” 

“Honestly, we still don’t know what happened to her. Only that she was killed by a werewolf,” Stefan confessed. “If that werewolf was the same one that turned you, well, we don’t know that either.”

“And what about Dana’s mom?” Hope asked. Loss was a touchy subject for her. The fact that Vera had barely gotten to grieve her daughter stung in a way she wasn’t expecting. 

Stefan pinched his eyebrows together and set his lips into a thin line. 

“She knew what needed to be done,” he said. “That she needed to do the right thing for the town, rather than the selfish thing of looking for answers. Even if she was still mourning her daughter and wanted justice for her.” 

A sob caught in Hope’s throat. She had stopped crying a minute ago, but she thought she might start again.

“That’s...” She looked for the right word. It didn’t come. “Sad.” 

“How can she be okay with that?” She glanced between both Freya and Stefan, wanting comfort or answers or maybe she wanted nothing at all. “How can someone bring themselves to make that kind of sacrifice?” 

Freya and Stefan shared a meaningful look. They turned to each other, before glancing at Hope. 

“When you have no choice,” Freya whispered, after a harsh second of silence. Hope pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and sucked on it, if only to make herself feel anything but the cold that was suddenly taking over her entire body. 

“We had no choice,” she repeated, but Hope got the feeling that the words were only for Freya and Stefan. Stefan, who unclasped his hands and tightened them into fists. 

“Your family didn’t just die in a fire, Hope,” he put in. He looked more serious than he had the entire night, and that was saying something for him. “At least, it wasn’t an accident. We hid what really happened, just like Dana’s mom.” 

Hope’s blood ran cold. She sunk back into her chair for warmth, for any heat at all, but it had chilled as cold as her blood, and she only found herself even colder. 

“A group of men led by Kai Parker snuck into their home while they slept,” Freya continued. “They...they, uh...” 

She couldn’t bring herself to say the words, but she knew better. Years had turned her anger into acceptance. 

“It wasn’t just a house fire,” she finished. “It was arson. They murdered everyone.” 

Hope was stuck. The tips of her fingers burned as if she had dipped them in fire. They tingled from her hands down to her spine. She was far too deep in disbelief to be angry. Far too shocked. 

“But the official fire department report said it was an electrical malfunction.” 

Freya shook her head. “They don’t know the truth. They don’t know that werewolves exist. They don’t know what those God-forsaken hunters did to our family.” 

Hope swallowed hard. 

“Hunters?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully i can update again tomorrow
> 
> next chapter: study date


	7. Chapter 7

** Hey, Josie said that she’s on her way.  **

Hope let out an anxious sigh as she closed the text message from MG that he had sent her five minutes ago. She had also spent the past five minutes staring at it, heart in her throat. 

It didn’t seem real that Josie was coming over. Part of Hope couldn’t believe she had gotten so lucky as to have the other girl spending time at her house, but deep down she knew that it meant nothing special. 

Josie’s intentions were pure and innocent, and she was only coming here to tutor Hope. The newly-turned wolf had to remind herself of that several times. 

Still, their study date was all Hope could think of during school. And during lacrosse practice. She was a total mess there, and made an utter fool of herself in front of Coach Dorian. It wasn’t just thoughts of Josie that was distracting her, though. 

Her conversation with Freya and Stefan the evening before was haunting her just the same. 

The two adults had spent the rest of last night explaining what hunters were and how they dedicated their entire lives tracking and hunting down the supernatural. Basically, they would kill a hundred innocent baby werewolves given the chance. Hope never slept worse when she finally got into bed that night after hearing that. 

In the morning, Hope had been forced to get a ride from Stefan to school, since Freya didn’t think it was safe to drive around with half a steering wheel. Now, her car was in the shop and she had to depend on a literal stranger who kept pretending that they were family. 

Not that they were. Family, that is. They were the farthest thing from it. Even if Stefan kept insisting that they were without truly saying it. 

After dropping her off, the man had told her that he wouldn’t be able to pick her up and wait around after school. This meant that she would have to run home in order to make it in time to meet with Josie after lacrosse practice. 

During school, she had filled MG in on what she found out from Freya. The boy was shocked to say the least, and he spent half of the day with his jaw dropped to the floor. The other half was spent consoling Hope and trying his best to comfort her after the truth about her parents had come to light. 

Without warning, a loud rumbling disrupted Hope from where she had been staring at her phone, and it slipped out of her hands to the floor as she jumped towards her bedroom window in search of the source of the sound.

In the far distance, her sharp eyes could just barely make out the black Toyota Camry that belonged to Lizzie Saltzman. It looked like Josie was still driving her sister’s car around, despite the accident she got into with the injured dog the other day. 

She watched as the car came close enough for Hope to catch Josie tilting her head from side to side through the tinted windows, eyes darting around as if she wasn’t sure where to park. 

She seemed to lean towards pulling into the driveway, but then she thought better of it and parked near the sidewalk. It only took a minute for her to gather her things and exit the car. 

Without thinking, Hope stepped away from the window and bolted out of her room. She all but threw herself down the stairs, and in seconds she was jogging to the front door and flinging it open. 

...

Before Josie had even rang the door bell or knocked. 

Fuck. 

The brunette’s hand paused where it was raised to rap her knuckles against the door, wide eyes meeting Hope’s own with a rosy blush painting her cheeks. 

“Oh,” she breathed, dropping her hand from the air to fiddle nervously with the straps of her backpack. 

Hope almost face-palmed, almost slapped the shit out of herself. A normal person wouldn’t have been able to hear Josie arriving at her house or walking up the steps to her door. Then again, Hope wasn’t exactly normal anymore, and this fact was more apparent than ever, now. 

_Oh, God_ , Hope thought. Josie probably thought she was a creep. 

_Oh, God_ , she thought again. What if Josie had seen her staring at the brunette through her bedroom window? 

“Sorry. Were you just leaving?” Josie glanced behind her outside, and when she turned back to Hope, her face was scrunched up in confusion. She looked adorable. 

“Oh, no,” Hope laughed out, voice a little higher than it should be. “I was...” 

She looked around for something she could work with. Just then, a delivery truck drove down the street. Hope smiled. 

“...just checking outside for a package,” she finished. Her entire body flushed. She suddenly felt hot. More nervous chuckling came out of her mouth, unbidden. “You know, I do a lot of online shopping and all that.” 

Fuck. How could Josie know that? 

“Right,” the other girl agreed, very slowly. An awkward beat passed. Hope took the time where the brunette’s eyes were focused on the ground to check her out. 

She was still wearing what she had on during school, but it felt different. Namely, because they were _out_ of school and in a completely different setting, but also because they were _alone_. 

“Anyways,” Hope said, resisting the urge to wave her hands in front of her face to cool down. “Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it. You didn’t have to.”

Josie smiled nice and wide, but she showed no teeth. She looked almost...shy. She glanced back to the ground again, but her eyes found Hope’s when she spoke. 

“I wanted to,” she told her. Hope felt her chest grow warm, like sunshine was leaking into the space where her heart should be. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling and she found a smile breaking out across her own face. She couldn’t seem to suppress it. 

The two stared at each other for a long moment, both wearing identical smiles on their faces, before it became obvious that the moment had passed on for _too_ long and they both looked away. 

Hope cleared her throat. She suddenly remembered that they were both standing outside, when they were supposed to be studying. 

“Shit. Sorry.” She opened her front door wider, as something between an invitation and an offering. She hoped Josie didn’t mind that she had cursed. She didn’t know if French girls liked that. “Come in.” 

Josie nodded and stepped into her house, but she didn’t bother to walk all the way in just yet. She only looked around at her surroundings as she waited for Hope to close the door behind her. 

“I was thinking we could do it in my room,” Hope told her casually. “But we can do it down here, if you want. Whatever you’re more comfortable with.” 

Josie startled to giggle, but it took a little longer for Hope to catch on. 

“Oh.” She paled and swallowed hard, sure that she was sweating underneath her sweater. Why had she chosen to wear one, again? “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear—“ 

“Your room sounds good,” Josie cut her off, still laughing. Hope laughed with her. 

“Okay.” She smiled, gesturing to where the staircase was. “Great.” 

She paused just before they went upstairs, knowing that Freya would be upset if she wasn’t a good host. Last time Hope had had MG over, Freya had made a big deal when she hadn’t asked him if he wanted to stay for dinner. She had gotten into lots of trouble for that, Hope can distinctly remember. 

“Do you want anything before we go up?” she spoke up, voice surprisingly calm. Her mouth still felt dry from earlier. “Drinks? Snacks?” 

“Actually, I’m kind of thirsty,” Josie admitted. Good. Hope was kind of thirsty, too, but she didn’t want to drink anything if Josie didn’t. “Do you have water?” 

Hope smirked. Thankfully, she managed to keep down the sarcastic jokes rising in her throat. 

“Sure. Give me one second.” She rounded the counter in her kitchen and ducked into the fridge for a bottle or two. Josie stayed by the staircase and watched her. 

“Sparkling or still?” she called out, since it seemed that Freya had bought both and Hope liked the idea of giving Josie an option. She grabbed a still one for herself. 

“Is that even a question?” Josie laughed and came up behind her. Maybe she had felt awkward by the stairs, or maybe she wanted to hear Hope better, but it caused the wolf to nearly slam her head against one of the doors of the fridge. 

“Oh.” Hope forced herself to act like she hadn’t almost embarrassed herself. The flush to her cheeks betrayed her. She cocked her head to the side curiously, a teasing glint in the dark blues of her eyes. “So, sparkling, then?” 

Josie didn’t find it so funny. At least, not as much as Hope did. 

“You can’t be serious,” she deadpanned, looking at Hope like she was a stranger and this was the first time she had ever seen her. “Who prefers sparkling water over regular water?” 

Hope continued to act confused, but a smile was cracking at the corner of her lips. She faked a pout, and then in all seriousness, said, “I do.” 

“You know what?” Josie stepped back, and stuck a thumb out behind her at the door. Hope followed after her and shut the refrigerator closed. “Maybe I _should_ go.” 

Hope silently handed her a bottle of still water. The skin around her eyes crinkled in amusement. 

“Oh, really?” She frowned playfully. “But I thought you wanted to help me.” 

“I changed my mind,” Josie told her, but a smile was cracking at the corner of her lips, too. “This clearly isn’t working out.” 

“You’ve been here for, like, five seconds,” Hope remarked. She stepped closer, at the same time the brunette moved away. 

“Five seconds too long,” Josie shot back easily. 

Hope couldn’t quite help herself and she grinned despite how much she tried to keep a straight face. Josie soon followed, and they both burst out laughing even though the joke hadn’t even been that funny. 

When the pair calmed down enough to breathe, Hope led Josie upstairs with a small tour of where the bathroom was and which door Hope’s bedroom lay behind. 

“Are your parents home?” Josie asked, once they finally entered Hope’s room and the wolf moved to shut the door. 

The question was innocent enough, especially for their situation, but Hope froze. Just a little. Just enough that she forgot how to breathe. Just enough that her heart stopped beating. 

The truth was, her parents had not been home in a while. 

After they died, Freya had said that time would shift weight, that Hope would heal—she had said that one day they would both feel happy again. She had lied. Time had not shifted weight at all. It had been a few years since both of them passed, since Uncle Elijah and Uncle Kol and Aunt Davina had went with them, and her chest still felt heavy with grief, now. 

“No,” Hope murmured softly, when her heart started again. “They passed away a couple of years ago.”

She kept her voice deceptively even and blank, but she could tell that Josie instantly regretted asking. Damn it. She should have been able to hide it better. She never wanted to make the other girl feel bad.

“Oh.” Josie balked. Her face contorted with sympathy. Surprisingly enough, Hope couldn’t see a single inch of pity there.

She prepared herself to hear what everyone else usually said when they realized she was an orphan: _that must be tough, poor girl, there, there, everything will be okay, I’m sorry for your loss—_

But Josie said none of that. She only told Hope the truth. 

“I don’t really know what to say to that,” she confessed, smiling hesitantly. There was a surprise for Hope in _that_ , too. Usually, others tried to look deliberately sad and upset for Hope. “I’m sorry if I brought up a sore subject, but I’m here for you if you ever want to talk about it.” 

Hope nodded. A thick gulp of emotion gathered in her throat and refused to be swallowed down. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly, shutting the door to her room at last. Her voice was almost a whisper, and she couldn’t quite look Josie in the eye, but the other girl didn’t seem to mind. 

“I live with my aunt,” she added, if only to change the subject and attempt to fill the gaping hole in her chest, “but she won’t be back from work for a while.” 

“Oh, okay.” Josie accepted that easily. She stayed in the middle of Hope’s room, biting the inside of her cheek. “What does your aunt do?” 

Hope sat down on her bed and watched her. She wondered if Josie was going to sit down or stay standing like that awkwardly. Well, not _awkwardly_ , per say. She could have been comfortable, but Hope honestly couldn’t tell. 

Perhaps the brunette didn’t know what to do with herself? For her part, Hope didn’t know what to do with herself, either. 

“She’s a nurse at Mystic Falls Memorial,” Hope told her, threading her fingers through her bed sheets. She had made her bed about ten minutes before Josie showed up, which was about fifteen minutes after lacrosse practice ended. Yeah. She ran home really fast. 

“She’s been picking up a lot of night shifts lately,” Hope continued, a bit absentmindedly, not really paying attention. “So, we should be fine.” 

Josie tilted her head. Hope tracked the motion with her eyes before forcing herself to look away. “What do you mean?” 

It was Hope’s turn to look confused. 

“By, ‘we should be fine’?” Josie clarified, which made Hope blush. She had no idea why she said that. 

“Oh. I, just, uh, meant, ha,” Hope stammered over her words, and great, the nervous laughing was back. It seemed she did a lot of that in front of Josie. “That she wouldn’t be here to interrupt us or anything, not that there _would_ be anything to interrupt, that’s definitely not what I meant, nope, that’s _not_ what I was thinking at all...” 

“Hope,” Josie cut off her babbling with a smile.The wolf’s ears prickled at the word, and she felt pleased at the way Josie’s tongue clipped around the single syllable of her name. “Calm down. I was joking.” 

“Funny,” Hope chuckled out weakly. When Josie looked away from her and moved to shrug off her backpack, she rubbed at the back of her neck. God. This girl was going to be the death of her. 

“Oh, yeah,” Hope said, when she noticed Josie exploring her room and looking around. She resumed her job of being a good host. “Make yourself comfortable. I have a chair near my desk, but you can sit on my bed if you want.” 

Josie thanked her and lowered herself onto Hope’s desk chair. She started to wiggle herself and spin around in it, but that was a pretty hard feat to accomplish because of the rug underneath that kept getting caught in the wheels.

Josie got four solid turns before she grew bored and pulled her backpack onto her lap, but Hope never tired of watching her and kept doing it silently. 

“Here.” Josie rolled over to where Hope sat on her bed. It took a moment of struggling for her to shimmy on over, but she got there. It made Hope laugh, but she stopped when Josie handed her a packet of paper. Right. They were supposed to be _studying_. “I thought we could start by reviewing the pop quiz we took on Tuesday. I got a copy of the questions from Vardemus.” 

Hope gave her a curious look. 

“How?” 

Josie shrugged. “I just asked. I guess he likes me.” 

Hope looked at the paper and scoffed. It was an exact copy of the quiz they had taken on Tuesday. “Teacher’s pet,” she muttered underneath her breath. 

Josie pretended not to hear her. 

“I have my scantron, too,” she said, “so we can see which ones are the right answers.” 

After some shuffling where Hope pulled out her own scantron and Josie resituated herself on the bed, they quickly got to work. 

“Okay...” Josie pointed at a question and leaned in so Hope could see. This was unfortunate, since it gave Hope a nose full of Josie’s scent: something cinnamon-y like apple pie and something floral like sunflowers. There was something _else_ there, too, but she didn’t recognize it and found she couldn’t name it. 

Hope’s mind blanked, until all she could think about was getting more of the scent and figuring out why it was unfamiliar. She tried to discreetly lean forward and sniff Josie’s hair, thinking that it was something in her shampoo, but just as she moved to do so, Josie leaned away. 

“Did you get that?” the brunette asked. Hope’s lips parted and her tongue swiped over to lick them. She hadn’t heard a word. 

“Sorry,” she apologized with a grimace. “Would you mind saying that again?” 

“It’s okay,” Josie told her and smiled back, getting into the details of how Christopher Columbus persuaded King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain to financially support his voyages across the Atlantic Ocean. 

Hope patiently waited for Josie to lean forward again as she talked, and when she did, she took her chance. She flared her nose in an attempt to hide the way she inhaled deeply, and she found that whatever she had been smelling earlier, it was definitely something in Josie’s hair. It was fruity, but not enough that Hope could identify a single fruit in particular. 

Damn it. 

“So,” Josie spoke, pointing at a different question. “Question number seven was, ‘Fill in the blank. Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue in ______.” 

“What did you put?” Hope took out her scantron and passed it over to Josie, who squinted at it before raising her eyebrows. “You chose letter C, which is...” 

Josie glanced back to the quiz. A small smile played at her lips. “1942.” 

Hope blushed, for the hundredth time that day. Wrong fucking century. God. Was she just stupid or plain dumb? 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, staring down at the paper because she couldn’t bring herself to stare into Josie’s eyes. “You must think I’m an idiot.” 

“I really don’t,” the other girl was quick to assure her, leaning over to place a soothing hand atop Hope’s own. She nearly melted into a puddle on the spot. The only thing that saved her was Josie’s scent, which grounded her and forced her to remember that this was all real and that she wasn’t just imagining it.  


“I promise.” 

Just as quickly as Josie had leaned over and held her hand, she was gone. Hope instantly missed the warmth of her fingers, but the burn of her touch stayed long after it had disappeared and Hope never felt the cold she expected would come. 

The pair then spent the better part of the next hour reviewing old quiz questions and propping open Josie’s history textbook, which she had somehow checked out from the library before Hope. 

By the end of the hour, Hope knew that Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492, not 1942. Yay. 

When they both agreed that studying for history was starting to become repetitive and that they needed a break, Josie switched to doing her chemistry homework while Hope did her math. 

As the brunette pulled out her chem textbook from her bag, Hope noticed another, smaller book fall out. It was titled in French, which wouldn’t have necessarily caught her eye if it wasn’t for the large illustration of a wolf with glowing red eyes plastered on the cover. 

It reminded her so much of the beast she had seen Sunday night, of the beast she saw in her _dreams_ , that she couldn’t just ignore it and hand it back to Josie like she had originally planned. 

Instead, she narrowed her eyes and flickered them back up to the title in bold, black ink. 

** La Bête du Gévaudan **

Hope picked up the book from where it had fallen and slowly handed it back to Josie, so slowly that their fingers brushed to remember it. 

“What’s this?” Hope asked, trying to appear casual and indifferent. Inside, she was having a hard time containing herself—she was struggling with keeping her eyes off the wolf on the cover, struggling with asking something that would give her away. 

Josie took the book back with a smile, but she didn’t put it back in her bag like Hope expected. Instead, she dragged her nails along the spine and traced the letters in the title. Her nails were painted a pretty, purple-lilac color Hope hadn’t noticed before. It fit her. 

“It’s just for my French project,” Josie explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. Hope frowned. 

“French?” _What_? “You take French?”

That didn’t make much sense. Why would someone who already spoke French be taking it as a class? Wasn’t that just a waste of time? 

“Yeah.” Josie grinned, leaning in as if about to tell Hope a secret. “It’s so I can get the easy A.” 

“ _My_ ,” Hope husked in the same, playful tone. “What would your teacher say if she heard that? I can’t imagine she’d be too happy.” 

Josie didn’t bat an eye. 

“Madame Hoffman _loves_ me,” she claimed, the smile on her lips almost dangerous. Hope moved forward like she was caught underneath a spell. “She thinks I’m a fast learner.” 

Hope rolled her eyes fondly and backed away, just when she thought she might be too close for comfort. “I bet.” 

She licked her suddenly-chapped lips and regretted it. Staring at Josie for too long always made her mouth run dry like that. 

She took a sip of her water bottle and gestured offhandedly to the book, still trying to play it cool. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Josie had a book about werewolves in her possession, unless the cover was misleading. Could it be...? 

“What’s your project about?” 

“Nothing, really.” Josie lifted her shoulders slightly in another shrug. “Hoffman just wanted us to write an essay in French about our family history. It’s not due until the end of the semester, but I thought I’d get a head start with research.” 

How would a book with a wolf on it have anything to do with Josie’s family history? 

“So, you _are_ a teacher’s pet,” Hope decided, but she was only kidding. Josie knew it and laughed good-naturedly. While the brunette was distracted, Hope pointed at the title of the book. “What’s it mean?” 

“La Bête du Gévaudan?” Josie asked, pronouncing each word flawlessly. Hope had to wipe at her mouth to make sure she wasn’t drooling. “It means The Beast of Gevaudan.” 

When it was clear Josie wasn’t going to say anymore, Hope added, “That sounds interesting.” 

“Yeah,” Josie agreed. “It is, actually.”

She seemed to think, before thankfully continuing. Hope almost sighed in relief. “It’s a story about the most famous ‘werewolf’ in history—“ 

She snorted at the word and added finger quotes. Hope raised her eyebrows in amusement. 

“—Who ravaged France in the mid-eighteenth century. He was believed to have killed up to five hundred people before a human stopped him.” 

“Wow,” Hope breathed. That didn’t sound anything like the kind of stuff Freya and Stefan told her. To her, they had described werewolves as beautiful creatures who were often misunderstood. 

“I know right,” Josie said, and her eyes glinted with excitement. “And guess what?” 

Hope tried to smile but it didn’t quite work out. “What?” She played along.

“In the story, the human that killed it—“ Hope flinched at the word _it_ , but Josie was eager in her storytelling and didn’t notice. “—was one of my ancestors. Marie-Jeanne Parker.” 

For a second, time stood still and Hope did, too. Josie carried on into the present without her, and while—to Hope—the world seemed as though it was ending, it kept turning for the rest of the living. Only a corner of it had stopped for her. 

“ _A group of men led by Kai Parker snuck into their homes while they slept. They murdered everyone.”_

_ “A group of men led by Kai Parker snuck into their homes while they slept.”  _

_ “A group of men led by Kai Parker.”  _

_ “Kai Parker.”  _

_ Kai Parker.  _

“The rest of the book is dedicated to her and her bravery in slaying the monster,” Josie continued, unaware of Hope’s inner turmoil. “It talks all about how she was a hero to France and her people. It’s, I don’t know, cool. I mean, even if the story isn’t true and werewolves don’t exist, it’s still nice to see someone related to me written about like this...” 

Hope didn’t hear a single word after that. Her mind was flying all over the place and she couldn’t focus on a single thought. 

Did this mean Josie was related to Kai Parker? She wondered. Did this mean Josie’s family killed Hope’s? 

Was that why Freya had went rigid, all those nights ago when Hope had mentioned Josie? But then again, Josie’s last name was Saltzman and not Parker, so surely it couldn’t be, right? 

Right?

And surely, Freya would have warned her against becoming friends with the girl, right? 

Right? 

Even if she was related to Kai Parker, it didn’t mean anything. It could have been a distant connection. Maybe Josie didn’t even know who Kai was. Who knew? Certainly not Hope, and certainly not Josie, right? 

Right? 

Of course Josie didn’t know about werewolves. She didn’t want Hope dead. Her family didn’t want Hope dead. That was years ago. Centuries ago. Maybe the story wasn’t even true. A werewolf killing hundreds of people seemed unrealistic. 

Yes! Hope convinced herself. It was a fable, _nothing more_. A story. Fiction. It wasn’t real, and it never had been. Josie wasn’t a hunter, and neither were any of her family members. Parker was a common last name. It _was_. 

Definitely not Lizzie. _Lizzie_ , who had known Hope for years and had never mentioned a single thing about what had happened to her family. Lizzie had absolutely no clue, and Josie didn’t either. 

Josie could still be perfect in Hope’s mind, could still do no harm. She would find a way to keep her—

The sound of a phone ringing startled Hope out of her thoughts. Only then did Josie stop talking. Her words fell away as the obnoxious, earsplitting noises of Hope’s phone filled the space between them and left the wolf no choice but to answer. 

She grabbed her phone with a huff and frowned at the Unknown Number staring back at her. Heart still thudding desperately in her chest, she picked up the call. 

“Hello?” 

“Where are you?” A deep male voice answered. Hope sighed. Great. Stefan. 

“At home,” she said. “Why?” 

“It’s past six,” Stefan answered. “We agreed to meet in the woods an hour ago by your old house, remember?” 

Hope didn’t. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, which made Josie giggle. Her heart calmed down a little at the sound. “Why would I agree to that?” 

“Because I was going to teach you how to control your new powers, remember?” Stefan’s voice was still stern, but it came softer, this time. 

“No,” Hope told him curtly. “Sorry. I forgot. Kinda busy. Bye, Stefanie.” 

She hung up the phone and threw it behind her on the bed. She wanted to throw herself back on the bed, too. She wanted to sink into the comfort of her sheets, she wanted to disappear, but she couldn’t. 

Josie raised her eyebrows, curious. 

“Stefanie?” She sent a meaningful glance to Hope’s phone. Hope widened her eyes and shook her head at the insinuation. 

“No, no,” she hurried to explain. “That was Stefan. I just called him Stefanie to annoy him.” 

Josie’s face fell, not very perceptibly, but just enough for Hope to notice. 

“Oh.” She frowned, but her lips were full and naturally dipped down, so they made the action look like she was pouting. “ _Stefan_.” 

Somehow, she sounded disappointed. 

“Is that the guy who dropped you off at school this morning?” Josie asked suddenly, and while the question was out of nowhere, Hope didn’t blink. 

“Yeah?” 

“I heard about him the other day,” Josie went on. Hope briefly wondered how but didn’t ask. She was afraid of the answer. “He’s not like how I imagined. Actually, when I saw him, he looked a lot younger than I thought he’d be. Do you...” 

She trailed off, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. When she released it, the skin was red and glistening. It was very distracting, Hope thought. Almost as distracting as her scent, which still stung in Hope’s nose like fire and stuck to her insides like soot. She never wanted to smell anything else again. 

“Do think he’s cute?” Josie asked, finally. Hope parted her lips in surprise. 

_Oh_. That definitely hadn’t been what she was expecting. She didn’t know that Josie and her were like that—she didn’t know they were at the point where they could talk about boys together. 

Hope wrinkled her nose in distaste. This was not what she wanted. This was the exact _opposite_ of what she wanted.

”I...”

She thought about her answer, but only because Josie was watching her so intensely. If she hadn’t been, Hope would have denied the question within a split-second. 

“I wouldn’t say cute,” she decided slowly. Her voice grew timid. Just above a whisper. She felt a little jealous, but she would never admit it. Had Stefan really caught Josie’s attention? Acid rose in her throat. “Do you?” 

Josie bit her lip again before laughing. 

“I guess cute isn’t the best word for him,” she admitted. “His biceps are, like, twice the size of my thighs.” 

What a weird thing to say. 

The other girl hesitated, before she put her hands out in front of her and showed Hope just how big. 

What a weird thing to do. 

“Are you dating him?” Josie blurted out, with a blush burning from her neck to her cheeks. When she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, Hope saw that her ears were pink, too. 

If she didn’t know any better, she would have said that Josie looked jealous, but she did know better, and Josie couldn’t have been. 

Hope shook her head like someone slapped her face from left to right. “Ew. No.” She pulled a face. 

“ _Ew_ ,” she declared again. She could have sworn she tasted vomit in her mouth. “ _No_. He’s like twice my age. Oh, _God_. No. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.” 

Her overreaction made Josie laugh, but it also made her grow even redder. She looked embarrassed. 

“Sorry. Sorry,” she apologized, and then apologized once more. Her words came fast and rushed. They almost flew past Hope’s head. “I just saw you with him in the morning, and Lizzie had made some comment that—“ 

“You don’t need to explain,” Hope interrupted, smiling. “It’s okay.” 

It _was_ okay. 

At least, she hoped it would be. 

  
  
—

On Friday, Hope passed her history test. Josie even waited after class to congratulate Hope, so she was already in a good mood going into lacrosse practice. 

During the practice itself, Hope managed to impress Dorian with a tricky play on offense and did pretty well on defense, too. Though her teammates still underestimated her and didn’t think she deserved to be on the team, they were less vocal about it, now. 

Sebastian had even stopped making rude comments underneath his breath during team huddles, and a few boys had started praising and complimenting her, too. Both she and MG had began growing closer to some of them, such as Landon Kirby, Rafael Boyd, and Roman Lahey. 

It felt nice having more than one friend. At least, it made practice pass by a lot more quickly, since she joked with them on the sidelines during scrimmages and between plays. 

As the practice came to a close, Coach Dorian muttered a few parting words and walked away with an excuse about making it in time for dinner with his wife. He left his team captains in charge of formally ending the practice, which Sebastian took advantage of right away. 

“Party at my house tomorrow after nine,” he announced as he wiped a light sheen of sweat off his face with the collar of his shirt. It made his hair stick to his forehead. “You’re all coming, right?” 

This was the first time Hope had heard of this, but all the other boys confirmed the invitation with nods and murmurs of agreements like they had known all week. Every single one nodded in earnest and others whispered in excitement. 

Sebastian looked pleased. 

“Good.” He smiled, but there was something off about it. “As your captain—“

Jed slapped a hand on his back. “Co-captain,” he corrected. Poor Jed. Always forgotten. 

Sebastian ignored him, but his smile turned into a fond one as he glanced off at the goalie. 

“Right,” he continued, “I expect all of you there.” 

“Who knows,” he added with a smirk. It made Hope’s stomach twist uncomfortably, but then again, maybe it was just because she hated him. “I might just put in a good word to coach if you all decide to show up.” 

Hope rolled her eyes as Sebastian pretended to think about it. She wondered just what Sebastian’s relationship with Dorian was. Father-son? A mentorship? “Team-bonding, I think I’ll call it. Should be enough to get us out of the Monday mile.” 

Everyone laughed, like it was an inside joke. Hope didn’t understand and wasn’t a part of the joke, but laughter was contagious and she found herself infected. 

“You would have gotten us out of it, anyways,” Jed spoke up, amusement dancing brightly in his eyes. They were dark and brown, but Hope could have sworn they were sparkling as he looked at Sebastian. “But, yeah, everyone has to come. The lacrosse boys over at Oak Creek threw one last week and ours needs to be bigger. _Better_.” 

He smirked just as widely as Sebastian, and the expression mirrored itself across every person in the huddle. 

Hope smiled, too. 

—

“What do you mean I _can’t_ go?” 

Hope ran a stressed hand through her hair. She should have known Freya wouldn’t say yes to the party. Damn it. She shouldn’t have asked at all. She should have just snuck it passed the woman and hoped she never found out. 

“Sorry, Hope,” Freya told her, but she didn’t seem apologetic at all. “Tomorrow night is the full moon. We can’t risk it. You think you’ll be fine now, but it’s a lot different when you’re actually experiencing it—“ 

“How do you know?” Hope hissed, and fuck, she really needed to get a hold of her anger issues. At this point, she was just proving her aunt right by snapping at her like this. “You’re not a wolf. You don’t know anything.” 

“She does.” Over in the corner, Stefan Salvatore stood with his arms crossed. Before this, he had been silently observing the conversation and hadn’t bothered to interfere. 

Though, Hope suspected that he had really just been laughing all this time. Why? 

Well, since the moment Hope had asked to go to the party in the first place, he had immediately hidden his face in his hands. She could have sworn she saw a smile on his lips, but the bigger give away was that his shoulders kept weirdly shaking. 

She _knew_ he was laughing at her, but he was good at hiding it, and she wouldn’t be able to call him out without looking like a fool. 

“Why are you even still here?” Hope rubbed tiredly at her forehead, not caring if she was being rude. Since Wednesday night, the man had been making daily visits to the Mikaelson house. She had no time to herself now. 

“You, young lady,” Stefan pointed at her and waggled his finger, a hint of a smirk on his lips, but he showed no emotion. “Need to watch your tone.” 

Hope had to restrain herself from leaping at him. He was playing with her, and she had enough of it. Stefan probably even thought he was being funny. 

“I’m going to kill you,” she deadpanned. 

“See?” Stefan glanced at Freya. His finger wagged left and right again. She wanted to twist it off his hand and feed it to the raccoons she caught in the cafeteria dumpsters after school one time. “These are the little outbursts I’m talking about.” 

Hope ignored him. 

“Aunt Freya, please.” She turned back to the blonde, voice pleading. “This is my first party. I can’t miss it.” 

Freya furrowed her eyebrows, like she was contemplating it, and Hope thought she finally had her. 

Slyly, she added, “I thought you wanted me to get out more this year, remember?” 

Wrong move. 

“Don’t you twist my words back on me,” her aunt scolded. Hope’s shoulders deflated. A flash of hurt hit her face like a wave, but in the next second it was gone and she was pulled under. 

“I’m sorry Hope, but you’re not going,” Freya told her, a final note to her voice. Hope clenched her teeth together and bit back her tongue, even when Stefan tried to goad her. 

“Don’t look so sad,” he cooed. “You’ll spend the night with me in the woods. We’ll have fun, I promise.” 

God. Did he know how crazy he sounded sometimes? He should really hear himself speak more often. 

“Fine, but if your version of fun is chasing rabbits around and peeing on trees,” Hope grit out, “then I’m out.” 

She stormed out of the room and to her own upstairs, pretending to be upset. In reality, she didn’t care one bit about their words. 

She was going to the party. With or without their permission. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things should really pick up after the next chapter, so sorry for the slow pacing
> 
> also, thank you for reading and for commenting, it really pushes me to keep writing :)


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